


The Space Between

by Mikalah



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alien Culture, Alien Sex, Aliens, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Eventual babies one way or another it's gonna happen, Eventual marriage, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Angst, Family Issues, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Love, Really really really slow burn, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Team as Family, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 143,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10601070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikalah/pseuds/Mikalah
Summary: The moments between the dangerous missions where Sara and Jaal find each other. This expands upon what I feel may have been missed opportunities in the game for the sake of a little wish-fulfillment and indulging head-canon. Will loosely follow the plot of the game with expansion beyond. There will be spoilers, so enter at your own risk. Explicit, sexy-time content coming up in future chapters! Updates roughly every 4 weeks.





	1. Reckless Endeavors

**Author's Note:**

> Post Jaal's loyalty mission. An exploration on how things might have gone between them if Sara was angrier with him than the game presented. Took some liberties. Follows some loose canon.
> 
> Admittedly I didn't really want to do much with his siblings in the scene. I do in fact know their names (had to look it up) but I thought it reasonable that in the rush of the moment Sara might not really remember too well.

The shuttle rocked violently, the ride back to Daar Pelaav always seeming to hit chop every time they’d been there, but this time Sara didn’t care. She was too engrossed in staring blankly at the bench across from her to notice. Not even Liam sitting opposite her had her attention, as she was focused on trying to burn holes through the metal seat her eyes were currently trained on.

Sara swayed when the shuttle jolted, not even bothering to reposition herself when the ride smoothed out once more. Liam finally shifted, and she glanced up at him quick enough to note the almost pitying look on his face before she resumed her attentions elsewhere. She wasn’t in the mood to get into a discussion about what they’d just been through. After all, Liam hadn’t had a very pissed off angaran bearing down on her, with a gun pointed right at the face of her _other_ angaran crew member before firing a shot. 

To say that Sara was upset would have been an understatement. She was _furious_. The worst part was, she didn’t even really know why. Akksul’s shot had missed, deliberately or not, but fate be damned it only just grazed Jaal’s face before burying itself harmlessly into the mountainside beyond him. Jaal hadn’t even flinched. He hadn’t even reacted really until they’d finally left Akksul behind, humiliated and alone in the Forge. Only then had Jaal nearly crumpled, cupping his bleeding cheek with a hand as the shock caught up to him. Just as quickly he was shrugging it off, regaining his aura of self-assuredness as if the fact that a bullet had just sliced through his face was nothing. It may have been for the humans’ benefit, or perhaps for his three siblings now occupying the shuttle with him. Or it was just his way of pretending to himself that what he’d just done wasn’t _immensely_ stupid. 

His survival of the encounter alone should have soothed Sara, but the simple fact that Jaal had asked—no, begged—Sarah to just trust him and not take Akksul down with no regard for his own safety was what was bothering her the most. It wasn’t that Sara wanted to shoot Akksul. She wanted the opposite in fact, but when put in a situation where it was a choice between him, and Jaal she wouldn’t hesitate.

But, against her better instincts she’d listened to Jaal. The tense seconds that followed her and Liam lowering their weapons in an effort to diffuse the situation had felt like hours. Not once did Jaal seem to lose his composure. Sara tried, but internally she was screaming. SAM had intoned something about a 64% probability that Akksul would actually shoot to kill, which didn’t help matters but Sara had felt paralyzed in the moment. The alternative would have been to simply shoot the Roekaar leader and be done with it, but that would have had far worse consequences than Sara wanted to entertain. The Initiative’s relationship with the angara was already on thin ice, and while the Roekaar were a splinter group of highly xenophobic guerilla warriors—kett or Milky Way refugees, they were not picky—killing Akksul would have only martyred him. Akksul had even said as much to her the moment she had her gun to his chest.

And worse, she would have destroyed the fragile trust and friendship she had built with the angara so far; the friendship she had built with Jaal. 

Sara finally huffed air, leaning down to run her fingers through her hair while she stared at her feet. There was no better way this could have ended. She knew that. But right now she hated Jaal for putting her in that position in the first place.

As if sensing her thoughts, she heard a stirring directly to her right, where Jaal was at the opposite end of the shuttle. The petty, nastier part of Sara had hoped that her choice of sitting as far away from him as possible before they’d left the Forge had been enough of a signal to him to know that she was pissed. He hadn’t spoken to her since they’d left, so maybe he knew. He’d been speaking to his siblings in hushed tones, low enough that she couldn’t understand the words between them, but she could hear the frustration and shame bounce back and forth without question. They had been the entire reason any of them had been put in this position in the first place, but right now she didn’t have the strength to be angry at them. She _couldn’t_ , even if she’d wanted to. 

Liam finally leaned over and gave her a reassuring pat against the knee. Sara huffed, managed a thankful smile at him before she realized that Jaal was staring at her. 

Sitting up straight Sara finally gathered the strength to look at him. He had shifted his body completely to face her, one leg propped on the shuttle bench where it bended creatively underneath him. The angle of his body was an obvious cue that he wanted to speak to her, but neither of them said a word. Jaal’s otherworldly gaze, blue and deep and unfathomably bottomless, was locked anxiously on her as if waiting for some sort of reprimand. _Oh it’s coming_ , Sara thought bitterly, but the frown on his lips and almost pathetic, dejected look of apology on his face prevented her from doing anything more than grunting a wordless acknowledgment at him.

Sara also knew she was being selfish. This whole thing hadn’t even been about her, or even Jaal. It had been about protecting his family, and her feelings were secondary. She didn’t really enjoy the worry Jaal had directed at her when there was more at stake, but christ she couldn’t help from being so very irritated at the whole ordeal.

“For fucks sake…” Sara finally muttered, having the mind enough to notice that Jaal was still bleeding where the bullet had grazed him. The absurdity of it all was too much, although worrying about cleaning himself up had probably been the last thing on his mind. It just looked so wrong and pathetic to Sara the way he sat there so dirtied, so she set her mind on fixing it. She couldn’t very well let Jaal sit there to leak all over his rofjinn and armor.

Standing, bracing herself against the shuttle wall she walked to a compartment at her end and kicked it open. She’d been in angaran shuttles before and knew where the aid kit was and more less how to use it. Lexi had also given her enough field medic information for angara should Jaal be injured during a mission that she was confident enough that she could patch him up.

“Sara,” Jaal finally rumbled, offering her a hand when she moved closer to him, med kit in tow, but she did not accept it. Her name on his lips made her heart seize in that moment, wanting to take his hand if only to assure herself that he was still there, tangible and very much alive, but the angrier part of her didn’t want to give him that comfort. The subtle, hurt look that crossed his face when he retracted his hand would have been enough to make Sara regret every decision she’d ever made in life but she resisted the urge to show it on her face. Instead, she sat down next to him, actually facing him, with her legs propping her up to reach closer to his eye level.

Jaal’s siblings squirmed uncomfortably opposite them, and Sara could see it out of the corner of her eye but she tried not to pay attention to them. His sister—Sara couldn’t remember her name—leaned forward as if to make her presence known should Sara try anything shady. One of his brothers hovered closer to Lathoul, the one name she could regrettably remember if only because he’d actually been shot during a rather tense exchange between them all. Thankfully he was fine, his armor absorbing much of the blast but he was leaned back against his brother for support, eyes shuttered and barely focused on what was going on in the shuttle around them.

“You should maybe not bleed all over everything,” Sara mumbled, opening the kit she’d balanced on her thigh and began picking through it, looking for the antiseptic and cloth. Jaal didn’t protest, so she took that as encouragement to continue. Finding what she’d been looking for she poured a generous amount of antiseptic on the sterile cloth and brought it to his face. “Hold still,” she warned. She didn’t know if it would sting or not, but she wanted to be sure.

And sting it must have, because as soon as she brought the cloth to Jaal’s face he jerked in surprise, but immediately stilled as she suspected the initial zing wore off. Carefully she began the task of cleaning him up, careful not to break the wound any further. The wound itself was thankfully not as bad as it could have been, leaving a clear line across his cheek that Sara mused might actually end up being quite a handsome scar if it stuck around. 

Jaal was a remarkably cooperative patient. His right eye slipping shut just slightly each time Sara stroked his cheek, almost as if he was enjoying the moment. Sara’s cheeks started to flush, realizing that in its own strange way this was actually quite intimate. She could imagine that Liam was probably going to give her endless shit for this later, because he had already guessed that Sara was quite fond of Jaal and would remind her every chance he got.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’re upset,” Jaal started quietly, his cheek moving underneath her touch as she started her descent towards his jawline where blood had started to trail in an erratic pattern down his throat. It pooled in the cracks between his neck and the smooth, curving hood of soft skin and bone that framed his face.

“Shh, don’t talk,” Sara snapped, maybe harsher than she’d intended but Jaal didn’t read it that way. He at least didn’t show it.

“I’m sorry I put you in that position, Sara,” he continued. His large hand shifted onto his thigh, very near her own. She thought that maybe he was deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to slide his hand onto her, unsure if the touch would be welcome. Part of her wanted him to, but part of her didn’t really care in that moment.

“We can talk about this later,” Sara mumbled, satisfied that she’d cleaned him up as best she could. The wound itself had oozed a bit, but it wasn’t anything that needed to be fussed over. Finishing it off with a bandage, Sara leaned back to check her work.

“There I think that looks about right.”

“You did an admirable job,” Jaal offered, his voice a low, hopeful rumble. His eyes followed her when she stood to return the med kit to its cabinet. She already knew that Lathoul didn’t need it because they’d patched him up with Roekaar supplies before leaving the Forge. She doubted that her concern was welcome anyway. She'd tried to help them before, but they'd very vehemently refused her. Jaal had given her a _look_ to indicate that he was sorry, but Sara had agreed at the time it was best to keep her distance.

Feeling sheepish after her eyes lingered on Jaal’s for too long Sara turned to return the med kit and sit back down. Liam perked up a bit, perhaps seeing her demeanor change.

“What am I, chopped liver?” He quipped, and Sara feigned bashing the med kit into his head which he mock dodged.

“I’m not your nurse, patch up your own damn wounds,” Sara responded, now realizing just how much Liam was putting her on the spot for paying such careful attentions to Jaal, and he probably knew it too.

“Why would you wish to be that?” Jaal asked, now sitting forward on the bench with his arms crossed against his massive chest. The slight smirk on his face betrayed the fact that it probably wasn’t a serious question.

“You little shit, I already told you what that means,” Liam snarked back, sliding down in the bench into a slouch. Sara couldn’t help but smile at their tender friendship, thankful that they couldn’t see her expression with her back to them putting the med kit away. 

“I would hardly use _little_ as a descriptor.” Jaal said, sounding scandalized.

“So you admit to being a big shit then?”

Sara couldn’t help but bark out a laugh when she sat down, her previous rage starting to cool down, if even a little. It was near impossible to be tense when the two of them went at it, although Jaal’s family looked somewhat mortified to hear them throwing insults at each other so casually. 

Sitting back, Sara felt a little bit at home again as the shuttle finally made it’s descent into Daar Pelaav.

***

It was raining on Havarl, but it had always been raining every time the Tempest had docked at Daar Pelaav. Sara was beginning to wonder if it ever stopped, thinking that reactivating the Remnant Vault should have made some sort of change, but possibly the rain had never been the problem with the planet in the first place.

Right now though, the rain was soothing on her face, still flushed and dirty from their time at the Forge. Since the shuttle had landed, Sara had opted to give Jaal and his family space while they worked out whatever was going on between them. Liam had said he wanted to return to the Tempest for a shower, but his eyes suggested that what he was _really_ saying was that he wanted Sara and Jaal to talk out what had happened to them since their confrontation with Akksul. 

Now Sara stood at the railing on the shuttle pad, letting the rain patter across her face and run down her cheek. She closed her eyes, letting the cool air and soft fragrance of soil and flowers waft over her. Havarl truly was beautiful—a planet worthy of birthing a species such as the angara.

Sara noticed the talking behind her had ceased at the exact moment she heard movement drawing nearer—a rustling of light fabric in the wind—and she immediately knew from presence alone that it was Jaal. He rested next to her on the railing, his weight making the metal shift beneath her arms, and they shared a companionable silence for a moment. 

Sara was still upset. She could have said that she was still really pissed, but she was lacking the energy to really feel it anymore.

“What I asked of you was unfair,” Jaal finally offered after the silence stretched between them for longer than he was comfortable. Sara thought, that maybe he had positioned himself closer intentionally, closer than he’d ever really stood near her before, and she allowed herself the luxury of pretending that meant something.

“No, it wasn't.” Sara puffed out a breath of air, watching the sway of alien trees outside the angaran settlement.

“And yet, you are quietly suffering.” Jaal didn’t have to say anymore. His words cut into her so deeply that Sara felt her stomach drop with an anguish she hadn’t realized she’d been bottling up. How, how did he manage to say so much, with so few words, and yet force her to feel everything all at once. She thought that his words were a question, but he didn’t present it as such. It was an offer for her to really lay into him, and he was prepared for it.

For a split second, Sara considered absolutely _losing it_ and tearing him a new one. She could really show him the full fury of human emotion and what it would look like if she wasn't so completely spent. So she didn't, deciding to choose her words carefully when she opened her mouth to speak.

“What you did…. was really, _really_ stupid and reckless. I know why you did it. I understand the sensitive situation we found ourselves in, and why it was better to listen to you but…” she paused, the memory of Akksul pointing the gun in Jaal’s face unbidden in her mind. “…he could have killed you.” Sara felt as if she’d just dumped a huge load off her back, feeling relieved at how simple it now all sounded when she put it to words.

“He did not. I knew he would not.” Jaal offered quietly.

“Did you though? He said you were a traitor. What if he was just angry enough at you to not care about your past? What if something had happened and I messed up and shot him accidentally—“

Jaal actually laughed, the sound so deep and booming that Sara felt it as surely as she felt the rain sliding down the back of her neck. She wondered, briefly, if what she was feeling was his bioelectrics resonating through her body, as alive and demanding of attention as the man standing next to her, now laughing at her. Everything about Jaal was so very big and full of life, that it was no wonder he’d had everyone’s attention as soon as he’d joined her crew on the Tempest. He’d captured her most of all, and she’d somehow fallen into his orbit like a comet drawing ever closer by the insatiable pull of the brightest star.

“That isn’t funny Jaal. Now you’re just making fun of me.” Sara frowned, now feeling just a little bit stupid and offended.

“You did not shoot. Akksul did not shoot. I am here and everyone is safe. The Roekaar no longer have the strength they once did.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, the remnants of laughter dying in his throat but his eyes were shiny and clear in Havarl’s dim evening light. The weight of his hand was warm and comforting, and Sara was very aware of the thumb that slid idly up her neck in a soothing gesture.

“I was really worried about you. I was so scared I was going to lose you.” Sara said, her voice sounding very small to her ears. The admission spilled from her in a nervous rush, and her belly fluttered at the relief to finally have out what her real fear had been. Jaal was turned to face her, and the expression on his face as he looked down at her had changed to something tender, almost wanting.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he said quietly, his voice a deep rumble that passed between them in soft breaths as if it was tangible. Maybe bioelectrics again, Sara couldn’t be sure.

“Was it worth it then, only to get shot in the face?” Sara winced, misplaced sarcasm noted. She thought Jaal would pull away, if only to shift the mood away from the tone she’d set but he didn’t.

The next thing Sara knew Jaal’s palm was raised, hovering near her face with a beat of hesitance and Sara stilled, unsure of what he was doing. He placed his hand gently at her temple with a quiet wonder, her hair ruffled between his fingers, and he pulled her face close to his as he leaned into her. For one wild, terrifyingly excited second Sara thought he was about to kiss her, his face angled with the intent to press his lips to hers with eyes that were hooded with need.

Yet he didn’t, seeming to stop himself nearly all the way there before settling his forehead against hers, maybe losing his nerve or unsure if she’d respond positively. Sara matched his gesture, placing her hand against his head as he was doing, content to at least enjoy the moment for what it was despite her disappointment.

Sara had wanted him to kiss her. Maybe she’d been wanting that for a while. But, she couldn’t have been absolutely sure. Otherwise she would have pulled him in on her own.

“It will heal. All scars do.” Jaal finally said, his voice a quiet hush as his breath danced warmly across her face. Sara found his eyes with her own, found them hopeful and pleading, but as if a sudden realization hit him he pulled away from her. His hand lingered in her hair for a moment more, and losing that final physical connection to him was raw and strangely painful.

She thought back at his words, and about what they meant. As was Jaal’s way, everything he said was full of purpose, and she wondered if he had meant a great deal more than what he appeared to mean on the surface.

That would have to wait. As if coming out a trance Sara realized that Jaal’s family was still standing a few meters away. Lathoul had been taken away to be treated for his wounds, but his other siblings remained, appearing to be trying their hardest to look at anything but the two of them at the railing. 

“Say goodbye to your family. I’m going back to the Tempest,” Sara said, now feeling very exposed and aware of her surroundings as if her senses had just been dialed up to 11. Jaal nodded solemnly, something in the way he was looking at her having changed, the shared moment between them awakening something profound in both of them. 

She offered Jaal one last hesitant smile before turning to leave, trying to hide the fact that she was trembling.


	2. Timely Interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Jaal discuss the email from Akksul, post-loyalty mission. Some heavy flirting ensues, and Jaal sends her an email that she can't ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing fast and loose with the timeline a bit. I know that the whole "let me look at your fingers so different from mine" has been done to death already, but eh, yolo I guess? Also, Jaal really isn't that subtle.

Evening on the Tempest was always more of a suggestion than a concrete fact. There really wasn’t such a thing as day and night in the vacuum of outer space, so typically you had to make due with what you had. The crew had more or less found their own internal rhythm to compensate for this, creating their own unique cycle of night and day to pass the time between star systems.

Sara drunk in some of the more quiet moments she got on the Tempest when mostly everyone else was asleep or retired to their own quarters. It was those precious hours where she could pretend that she wasn’t the human Pathfinder, and that in many ways the survival of everyone from the Milky Way didn’t depend on her success and survival. She hadn't died once already, hadn't nearly lost everything, and didn't have multiple factions all gunning for killing her first. SAM would quiet down too, retreating to the recesses of her mind to give her the privacy she desperately needed.

It was during those times of solitude that Sara liked to sit down with a warm drink, usually coffee (at any hour, it didn’t matter to her), and sift through the archives of literature and vids the Nexus had brought to Andromeda. Some of them were contemporary, but Sara liked to dig into the old, _old_ collections of vids from Earth pre-galactic expansion. They made her think fondly of her home world, and had helped her get through countless nights of Prothean digs. Now, they were a bittersweet reminder of what she left behind.

Tonight though, her mind was occupied by a separate worry. A certain email had reached her inbox, and she quietly warred with herself on whether or not she should respond to it. Now, she sat at the top of the ramp that led to the vidcomm deck, hot mug of coffee at her side and a blanket covering her lap.

It had been several days since the stand-off with Akksul. Sara had long ago gotten past her anger at Jaal for nearly getting himself killed, and they had eased into a comfortable ability to joke about the encounter now that it was past them. They were currently on their way to Kadara to chase down a lead on where the Archon was holed up, but had plenty of time to pass before then, so Sara had decided to use the opportunity to re-watch some old vids. She had been doing just this when SAM had notified her that she’d received an email. Finding it odd that the AI would alert her to this, when he had never done so in the past (her Omni-tool did a perfectly good job of pinging her when something new came in) so Sara’s interest had immediately been piqued.

She had not expected to see an email from Akksul. 

It had been nondescript from the subject line, and she didn’t immediately see the sender name before she’d clicked on it. She later reasoned the sender was exactly why SAM had alerted her to it in the first place. It wasn’t until she’d happened to glance down at the bottom of the message that she saw Akksul’s name there, and had suddenly become very reluctant to read the rest of it.

It was like when you had been waiting for some really bad news, or terrifying test results, but you didn’t want to actually acknowledge it when the time came. Sara hadn’t read it for a while, arguing with SAM in her head on the value and possible repercussions of just pretending the message didn’t exist until she’d finally steeled her nerve and just read the damn thing. It was absolutely not what she had been expecting.

It wasn’t really an apology. Akksul had even taken the time to point out that he wasn’t indeed apologizing, but there was a clear admission in the message that told her this was as close to an apology as they were ever going to get out of the disgraced Roekaar leader. What mattered is that he’d regretted what he’d done, and maybe, someday, he would be willing to make amends. That had surprised Sara, but in a pitying, worrying way. Not for her or her crew, but for Akksul himself.

Sara had been thinking about it a lot that evening, debating to herself on whether or not she should respond, or perhaps get a second opinion on what an appropriate response should even be. She didn’t really know Akksul. She was actually unsure as to why he had emailed her, as opposed to, say, _Jaal_ who was really the one he should be making amends to. She supposed it was possible that he had, but Jaal hadn't mentioned it.

The doors to the tech lab swished open at that moment, and as if the mere mental note of him had summoned him, Jaal emerged. He was still armored but decidedly rofjinn-less. Sara stilled, wondering if she should make her presence known to him or allow herself the luxury of being a bit of a creeper for a few minutes. He didn’t appear to notice her, but he’d paused just outside the threshold of the lab.

Jaal said something quietly under his breath that Sara’s translator didn’t pick up, unable to contain a smile as he simultaneously swiveled his head in her direction where he immediately saw her sitting at the top of the ramp. So much for being secretive. He’d probably known she was there the minute he’d walked out. She was instantly drawn into the vibrant blue depths of his eyes, able to make out the brilliant specks of color even from this distance. They were really quite stunning.

“Hi Jaal,” was all she could offer. She had been feeling a little bit shy and strange around him since they’d left Havarl. It would have been stupid to think that he hadn’t noticed her change in demeanor whenever he was around, and she knew that the crew had to have noticed as well. Vetra in particular had been doing a lot of glancing between them whenever they were in the same room together, flaring her mandibles with concern. It was actually insulting that Liam hadn’t yet pulled her onto his couch to grill her about it, considering how well he got along with the angara, and how obvious he was being about trying to push them at each other.

Liam had been like a brother to her since their harrowing experience on Habitat-7, but she was’t quite ready yet to confide in him regarding her silly, flustered crush on their angara crew member. Sara had at least admitted to herself that the experience of nearly watching him get shot in the face had been a catalyst for some pretty complex feelings. Feelings that had been stirring inside her since he’d first agreed to be a part of their little team. What was worse, was that Jaal wasn’t really doing anything to discourage her. Nearly kissing her on Havarl, or whatever that had been, had only been the tip of the iceberg.

Sara thought she’d see him stealing glances at her when she wasn’t looking, but normally one would look away when caught but Jaal wouldn’t. She’d catch him looking at her, and he’d lock eyes with her shamelessly for several moments where Sara thought she was drowning in his gaze until she was forced to look away, flustered. The light brushes against her in the mess hall or in the hallway when they crossed paths, the subtle, good-natured teasing when Sara giggled (yes, actually giggled) when him and Liam were going at it, and good heavens the _compliments_. One would think that in just a short amount of time one couldn’t possibly engage in that much flirting, but somehow Jaal fit it all in. Sara had been complimenting him a lot more too, now finding herself even comfortable enough to subtly take her own jabs at him if just to show that she could dish it out as well as she could take it. It would always end up with Sara red in the face and Jaal seeming to get unbridled joy from that.

“Sara, dearest.” Jaal returned quietly. There was _that_ too. Sara felt a fluttering in her tummy when Jaal acknowledged her— _whenever_ he acknowledged her now, because he had taken to calling her “dearest” whenever he spoke to her. He had no shame about it either, because he did it even with other members of the crew around. Suvi had nearly spit her tea out when he’d done it in the mess hall the previous evening. Jaal had moved quite seamlessly from first calling her “Pathfinder” in brusque, professional tones when they first met, then Sara when he’d become more comfortable with his place in the crew. Now it was “Dearest,” an undercurrent of softness to the way he said it that always made Sara feel warm and fuzzy. 

Without his rofjinn, Sara could plainly see the the entire shape of his body in fitted padding and straps that hugged every inch of him. _Every_ inch. It didn’t help that she’d unwittingly already seen him naked, thanks to Liam— _again_ —but at the time things had still been very formal and she’d done everything she could not to gawk at his body. Despite her efforts at the time, it had been painfully hard not to look, and boy had she seen everything through sideways glances and peeks through her fingers. It was no surprise that mentally she was piecing together what she couldn’t see now under his clothes, and that was becoming incredibly distracting especially in recent days.

Part of her wondered if he was intentionally foregoing the rofjinn now for her benefit; A little bit more teasing just for good measure, and it certainly worked. She rather liked the shape of his body, thinking he was actually very prettily put together. The way his chest protruded outward and went a little concave as his waist narrowed, into hips that just slightly angled back forward seemed to create the perfect balance. His digitigrade legs weren’t even that strange to her considering many of the Milky Way species had the same physiology, and Sara had her fair share of crushes on turians in her lifetime. There was something elegant about the way everything fit. Knowing what he looked like underneath it all only added to the fascination.

It was then that she realized she’d been staring dumbly at him, but Jaal didn’t let on that he’d noticed. There’d actually been a reason that she’d wanted to talk to him in the first place.

“I’m glad you’re awake actually,” she said down to him, shifting the datapad in her lap. Jaal glanced behind him at the tech lab, then back to her at the top of the stairs before turning back to her with a knowing look.

“It would appear so,” he said, his eyes softly accusing without being hostile, but the corner of his mouth was turned up in a smirk.

“Am I that transparent?” Sara hummed, feigning surprise.

“I should hope not, because then I would not be able to appreciate looking at you.”

Sara laughed bodily, covering her face to stifle the noise. She was doing it again, feeling herself blush.

“No seriously,” she breathed, regaining composure. “I really did want to talk to you about something.” She managed to calm herself down into something more serious. “Akksul sent me a message.”

Sara may as well have vented all the atmosphere out of the Tempest, because the amused half-smile Jaal had immediately vanished. His eyes darkened, narrowing in suspicion, and he was nearly halfway up the ramp towards her before Sara had a chance to clarify.

“He seems sorry about what he did to you.” She said hurriedly, waving him off. Jaal stopped where he was, leaning back on his feet.

“That is… unexpected.” he said, his face smoothing out into something more reflective.

"He sent you nothing?" Sara asked. Jaal's resulting expression told her enough, but he shook his head, only confirming it.

"No."

“I was afraid to read it for a while.. but I thought maybe you’d like to?” Jaal nodded, padding next to her to join her at the top of the ramp. She privately delighted in the way his differently shaped legs folded up beneath him when he sat. He was slightly leaned back, resting on an elbow next to her with the datapad in hand. She watched his expression change from something more pensive, to relaxed understanding as he reached the end.

Handing the datapad back to her, Jaal’s thumb brushed against her hand; a whisper of soft leather on her skin. Sara opted not to react to it, feeling overwhelmed enough looking down at him from where she was sitting. Even at this angle, he was almost at eye-level with her, but she found appreciation in being slightly above him.

“How does this make you feel?” Jaal asked after a moment, and Sara had to take a second to figure out what he was talking about. Once she realized he was talking about the message and not their relative proximity to one another she was composed enough to respond.

“I feel… sorry for him.” Sara said, looking down at her lap. “He loves his people. I heard him say that when we left him there, but it was as if he was speaking to no on at all. He’d been abandoned.” She felt Jaal shift near her, the soft slip of leather and padding just a whisper of movement. “I just want him to get the help he needs, because I do understand, even if I don’t agree with his methods.”

“That is what I love about you: your compassion, even in the face of what happened,” Jaal rumbled, sitting up straighter. “I will speak to Akksul—or, I will try to—if that will ease your concern?”

“You’re the one he shot at, so I’ll leave that up to you,” Sara observed, fingers worrying at the coffee mug next to her. Her gaze traveled to the bandage on his face, now more properly executed after Lexi had gotten her hands on him. “But yes, I’d like to see if we can work things out.”

“The Roekaar will not have the strength they once did. They will have lost faith in him after what happened.” Jaal held her gaze, imparting concern. “They are still a threat. We cannot assume that someone will not take Akksul’s place, someone even worse perhaps, but for now they will not be in our way.”

Sara thought on that for a moment. The void left by Akksul’s departure would be easily filled by someone potentially much worse: someone less cautious and vastly more hostile. The Roekaar were violent enough towards her people before, but had at least been a bit more discriminatory when it came to who, or what they assaulted. What would happen if someone far less prudent, but with more focused hatred swooped in to lead them? Sara didn’t want to even think of it.

“I hope Evfra is prepared for the inevitable power struggle and what that might mean for the Resistance.” Sara said after a moment, wondering how much worse that would be for everyone. At the very _best_ , it would strain the Initiative's relationship with the angara. She didn't even want to complicate the worst-case scenario.

“I am confident that Evfra is more than prepared to handle the Roekaar in any capacity.” Jaal seemed confident enough, so Sara didn’t see any sense in debating it. With her brief interactions with the Resistance leader she was pretty certain that he wouldn’t tolerate any shit from a third party hostile force should they decide to escalate. So far, Evfra had insisted on remaining neutral, having to focus enough on the kett without the added pressure of a subset of his own people becoming violent and going rogue. Sara had... disagreed with him, but _understood_ his reluctance to turn angara into another enemy, though he may not have a choice should the Roekaar decide to change their tactics.

“Speaking of Evfra...” Sara was reminded of something. “He’s not happy with you,” she couldn’t help the amused smile that crept across her lips. Feeling slightly vindicated, she watched the story of emotions unfold on Jaal’s face as he processed what she meant.

“Whatever for?” He asked, feigning surprise. Sara raised her eyebrows at him, looking at him sideways.

“Maybe almost letting yourself get shot in the face didn’t sit too well with him.” She all but threw the datapad back at him, but stopped herself halfway. Jaal didn’t even flinch, but he was looking at her with a curious, uncertain look on his face. _Ah, idiom_ , she thought, parroting what she thought Jaal might say in request of clarification. “Oh—um, when something doesn’t sit well with you, it means you don’t like it or it’s unpleasant and it makes you unhappy.” Sara shrugged.

“Well that certainly sounds like Evfra,” Jaal commented blandly. They shared a companionable silence for a while, Sara fiddling with the now cooled cup of coffee next to her. Jaal sat quietly next to her, his breathing deep and even in his chest.

After a moment Jaal shifted again, sitting closer, a hand straying ever closer to her thigh where the blanket was pooled around her. He began to play with the blanket with a finger and thumb, seeming to regard it with a quiet fascination.

“Sara,” he finally said after a moment, and he met her eyes again. Sara felt her world freeze.

“Yes Jaal?” This close she could see the intricate specks of gold and silver at play, the actual black of the rest of his eyes making the brilliant colors stand out like Earth hanging in dark space. The slit of his pupils widened and narrowed as he looked her over, and Sara found herself wondering what it all meant. Was he appreciating what he was seeing? Was he simply studying her, or just a trick of the light? She wanted to ask him, but after he’d called her out on explaining how human eyes worked before she thought better of it. Although, at the time they hadn’t really known each other and she’d admittedly just been showing off if only to annoy him.

Jaal’s gaze changed then, and Sara felt her heart skip a bit as his face dipped closer to hers for a moment while he readjusted his posture. He sat up-right now, angling his body towards her with a palm reached out, beckoning. It wasn’t hard to catch his meaning, so with a quiet thrill Sara offered her hand to him. It probably wasn’t as strange to Jaal as it was to her—angara were very physical on a wide spectrum of social interactions—but she couldn’t help but feel excited at the contact.

His hand overwhelmed hers, thumb gliding across the top of her hand while his index finger traced the edges of each of her disconnected digits that were so different from his own. He was looking down at their connection with a rapt fascination, lips pursed in concentration as his thumb finally entwined with her own. Sara could feel her cheeks growing warm, watching as Jaal tried to work out how best to hold her hand with his differing physiology. 

Jaal’s eyes flicked up towards Sara’s face, meeting her widened, uncertain stare with an intensity she hadn’t quite seen before. She opened her mouth to say something but the soft swish of the cargo bay doors opening below them made her jump with a start. She almost pulled her hand away, but something stopped her.

Peebee strode out from the cargo hold, turning for just a brief moment to look up at where Sara and Jaal were sitting. Her eyes went to their joined hands immediately, then back up to Sara’s reddened, shocked face with a knowing smirk before turning to walk to her escape pod. Well that did it, now _everyone_ was going to be talking about this.

Sara suddenly felt very aware of herself and her surroundings, Jaal’s massive, overwhelming presence making her fidget. Managing a look at Jaal, who was still entirely focused on her, she laughed softly and pulled her hand away. There was a flicker of disappointment that passed over his eyes as she gathered up the blanket and the coffee mug that had now grown cold.

“I should… go to sleep,” Sara finally muttered, letting her gaze linger on the angara far longer than it should have. She saw his eyes pass over her face and down to her hands to the blanket she held, before traveling back up to her gaze with a renewed fondness. _Was he just checking me out?_

“Yes.” Only a single word, mumbled in confirmation. Sara stood finally, feeling guilty about leaving Jaal on the ramp alone, but when she looked back at him he looked content to simply watch her walk away. Sara knew she was still blushing, and knew that Jaal could tell, and she knew that he understood the implications because they had discussed blushing before. Not to mention, Liam had probably told him what it meant.

“Goodnight Jaal,” Sara said, offering him a smile as she turned to retreat to her quarters. She could feel Jaal’s eyes on her as she disappeared through the door to the hallway.

When she woke just before docking at Kadara Port, she was surprised to see an email from Jaal. Sara had wrinkled her nose in amusement at the subject line and how formal it was, but the content of the email had made her nearly fall out of her chair. 

_Dearest,_

There he went again, starting off on such a confusingly heartfelt note.

_In your culture, is “dearest” too strong a word to use when two people are fond of each other? And is “fond” too strong a word to use when two people enjoy flirting with each other?_

Oh. _Oh._ Shit, then Sara hadn’t been misinterpreting him. He _had_ been flirting with her this whole time, and heavens above she’d been flirting back with equal enthusiasm. She knew very well that was exactly what she’d been doing, but there had always been an underlying uncertainty if Jaal had actually been interpreting it all the same as she was. He certainly seemed to have been, but there would have never been any way to know for sure without confirmation. _This_ was confirmation, and Sara’s heartbeat had sped up as she continued reading.

_I enjoy you. Even now, I smile picturing your face. Angara are free with with our emotions, and it feels normal for me to lay mine at your feet. I hope this is not too strange for your species and that you can comfortably accept them._

Sara felt her heart swell with affection for Jaal. His earnestness and ability to just lay it all out to her like this made her feel like she was holding a precious, fragile thing in her hands. She sat there for a moment, reading the first parts of the message over, and over again, wondering how in this entire galaxy she was lucky enough to experience this.

_I enjoy you—but more than that, I adore your strength and courage and beauty._

_Your dearest,  
Jaal_

Sara had archived the email, wanting to keep it safe, and tucked away for all time. More selfishly, she wanted to be able to read it again whenever she needed to be reminded that there was more than just bloodshed out there in the stars.

There was no time to respond to the email. Sara would have needed more time to formulate a response that was just as heartfelt and sincere, but they had arrived at Kadara Port and she was being hailed. She would have thought to go back to it later, but as luck would have it Jaal was in the cargo bay fiddling with the small shuttle tucked away against the ship’s hull.

As Sara strode past him she caught his attention, and he looked at her with a reserved hopefulness in his eyes and Sara thought she might burst. He was waiting for her reaction—for her judgment and possible reprimand. Instead, she smiled, did her best to fill it with every bit of affection and love that she could, and uttered one simple greeting to him.

“Good morning Jaal, _dearest._ ” He caught her meaning quite well. His eyes sparkled at her words and a relieved smile, so genuine and earnest, spread across his face as she moved past him. He responded with only a nod, perhaps too taken aback to formulate words, but if there had been time Sara would have lingered longer. 

Vetra and Drack were already waiting for her at the ramp to Kadara Port, and they had shared a contemplative look as Sara joined them with a beaming smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Some time on Kadara. Reyes does a little flirting with Sara, and Jaal isn't too happy about it. Things kind of explode.


	3. Inter-species Miscommunication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaal gets a little jealous of Reyes and hates Kadara so much that he just kind of explodes. Sara talks to him, Jaal tries to put back together a little bit of his confidence and goes a little overboard, but Sara is oddly okay with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best to interpret a jealous Jaal without him coming off as too overbearing, but I kind of like the idea that eventually it would all kind of come to a boil and he'd finally explode if prodded the right way.
> 
> Embellished a little bit on Jaal's stated purpose when he joined the Tempest crew. I find it sort of compelling that Evfra more or less "embeds" his most trusted lieutenant to take necessary action should the Tempest crew grow hostile.

Jaal watched with growing unease at the situation unfolding before him across the bar of Kralla’s Song. Leaning against the railing that looked out at the rest of the port, he crossed his arms across his chest as if it would provide some comfort, but it did nothing. The air smelled of sulfur and broken dreams, the metallic stench of blood and alcohol battling for attention over the persistent, sweltering noise and heat of Kadara’s Port.

Sara had entered the same bar some time ago, appearing surprised to see him and Liam there when she came in. She was there to meet with someone who had information that could help lead them to the Archon’s location, and while their presence hadn’t been intentional, she seemed grateful to have the extra back-up if needed.

He’d felt a small flutter in his chest when she walked towards them, and when she’d met his eyes a swell of joy threatened to burst from his breast. She had greeted Liam with the same casual flair that she typically employed with the human, but when she acknowledged his presence a soft shyness had overcome her features when she smiled.

He was really rather fond of Sara Ryder, the human from another galaxy with lightyears of dark space between them. When she had first fallen from the sky on Aya like a fiery omen, he had not known yet what to think of her. When he had agreed to board her ship under the pretense of being an envoy through angaran space, their first interactions had been harsh and stilted. His uncertainty at her attentions and persistent interest making him wary of her constant questioning, despite her own clear unease around him.

Yet, after a time, he had found himself welcoming her distractions more and more. At first he had thought that her interest had been nothing more than pure curiosity—although, that had likely been part of it. He was an outsider and they were all very alien to him after all, and to them he was something new to stare at. It would have been enough to make him abandon such an endeavor, preferring to be left alone to dwell on his own personal lot in life, but he needed purpose, and the mission he had been given to monitor them _was_ his purpose.

So he had stayed, knowing that his mission at the outset had been to watch the aliens, and protect Aya and the Resistance at all costs. Even if that meant disposing of them—Sara Ryder included—in their sleep and destroying their strange ship, effectively burying the evidence and all trails to their hidden planet. It would not have been a palatable option, but Evfra was relying on him, and he would do what was necessary for his people even if the killing was not what he wanted.

Now, such a thought had long been banished from his mind, as he had tentatively found a home amongst these strange, new aliens from the galaxy they called the Milky Way. They had proven to be trustworthy, not just to himself, but to Evfra and the Moshae. He had stayed, for himself as much as for the benefit of this Initiative. They were a mystery for him to solve—another puzzle to take apart and put back together, because truthfully he had grown fascinated.

After a time, Sara’s constant visits had become more personal; less professional and brusque. She was interested in _him_ , and not whatever utilitarian purpose he served as he had first assumed. She had let her guard down around him, no longer withdrawing into herself when he was near, and it was those early times that he knew she had been afraid of him. She had tried to hide it well, but his ocular scanner had picked up her vitals well enough to be able to tell that her heart rate and respiration had quickened whenever he approached.

Some things were perhaps universal, and while he had never told her that he had been able to read her in such a way, eventually he found that he no longer needed to. She had grown steadily more relaxed in his presence, and after she had made every effort to help his people at great personal cost, he had grown more relaxed as well. He trusted her now. He trusted these strange aliens, they had grown to trust him in turn, and it was the first time in a long while that he felt like he belonged somewhere.

Lately however, he had noticed a whole host of changes whenever he was around her. He’d found that, beyond all reason and logic, he was responding differently to her as well. It was... _thrilling_ and terrifying all at once, but he’d found that his curiosity and affection were far too great. Sara had saved his family, and had shown that she cared for him on a level that no one had really expressed before. Impulsively he found himself encouraging her, even instigating flirtatious interaction without any real thought for what he was doing. He’d learned, very quickly, that it took very little effort to make the human blush, giggle and grow shy around him, and that was the most extraordinary thing he had ever experienced.

Which was precisely why Jaal was feeling inordinately frustrated watching Sara speak with another human, a male, from across the bar with such a guarded, uncertain look on her face. The man himself, clearly not angara as they’d initially been led to believe, was behaving with an inappropriate familiarity that he did not like. What was worse, was that the man’s vitals were all over the scale, and in Jaal’s experience that usually meant one thing: someone had something to hide.

He felt guilty watching Sara in this way, unable to avoid seeing the way her own fluctuations betrayed her unease, but Kadara Port was not a place known for trustworthy character. He was glad that his friend Liam was with him, because that grounded him. Otherwise he may have started hovering near Sara more than he should have, if only to remind the man that she was not to be lied to.

Jaal shifted, exhaling a heavy breath from his nose, and Liam regarded him quietly with a sympathetic look. He thought, that Liam probably knew what he was thinking, as the human had been watching the pair as well.

 _Sara is a woman that can take care of herself_ , Jall chided himself, knowing that trying to assert any sort of dominance in the situation was not wise, or welcome under the circumstances. It was presumptuous to believe that the Pathfinder could not take the situation in stride; he had seen her in combat after all, she was independent and capable, but his newfound adoration was making him feel… protective, if only from a distance. If she needed him, she would ask for it, and he would be there in less than a heartbeat and— _why was this planet so damn itchy?!_

“Eey, Jaal?” Liam nudged him with an elbow. The angara blinked at him owlishly, breaking out of his own internal grousing.

“Liam,” Jaal regarded warmly, trying to ease his posture a bit.

“You alright there mate? You look a little tense.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Jaal said, grounding it out harsher than he intended to. He itched underneath his armor, and it had been making him cranky since they’d arrived. He reasoned to himself that was why he was so irritable towards their unsavory contact, because in that moment he hated _everything_.

“You complaining again?” Sara’s voice carried over to them as she drew near, the man she had been speaking to having left while they weren’t looking. Jaal felt that same fluttering in his chest when she looked at him warmly. “This place does kind of suck. It’s depressing,” she muttered. Feeling vindicated, Jaal grumbled an affirmative.

“Soooo… unless something has changed, Shena is not angara,” Liam said pointedly, and Jaal felt mildly annoyed that a human would parade around using his people as a veil to hide behind. That level of secrecy was disconcerting, and there were more and more reasons to dislike the man like water slowly coming to a boil.

“No, he most definitely is not.” Sara shrugged. “His name is Reyes Vidal. Does some work for the Resistance among other things, but he did have some interesting intel.” She turned to Jaal, eyes narrowed with a smirk. “Think Evfra knows there’s a human on his payroll?”

“Evfra will know.” He didn’t particularly understand why Sara found that funny. It would certainly not be a humorous situation were Evfra to find out something like that had been kept from him. She seemed to have a rather obscene level of amusement in the Resistance leader as if his temperament was entertaining to her. It baffled him.

Liam motioned to the asari bartender to order another drink, before suddenly hitting Jaal on the arm.

“Jaal doesn’t like him,” the human quipped. Jaal gave the back of the human’s head a _look_ but he didn’t see it. “I think he’s jealous.”

Sara’s eyes snapped onto his, a wry smile on her face, although Jaal could see the hint of a blush creeping up her neck. 

“Oh? Jealous of what?” Sara was teasing him. How Jaal wished Liam would hold his tongue sometimes. 

“I am _not_ jealous.” the angara muttered, but he knew that wasn’t entirely truthful. He’d watched this Reyes Vidal during the entire conversation, and had noticed how the human male would lean into Sara, gesturing his glass towards her, eyes flicking up and down her form in admiration. He _hated_ it. He hated _everything_ right now.

Before Jaal could defend himself further, Liam was speaking again. “He was getting a little handsy with you. I can’t say I like him all that much either.”

“Well don’t worry, Reyes lost his chance as soon as he left me to pay the damn tab.” Sara’s lips were pursed in mild disgust. Jaal bristled at this, his shoulders lurching as he huffed in annoyance.

“That is _impolite._ ” He only noticed he’d been scratching at his cowl where it joined his throat until Sara pulled at his hand. She’d stepped closer to him without drawing his attention, as he’d been too busy staring at the wall on the opposite end of the bar.

“You okay there? Do you need to go back to the Tempest?”

“Is that an option?” Jaal asked with a gruff, hopefulness, but the sober smile she gave him made him pause his incessant itching. “Ah-actually, I shall endeavor to persevere.”

“That’s my boy,” Liam angled his glass towards Jaal in something of a salute. “We suffered through Voeld, now it’s your turn.” Sara had removed her hand from his wrist, satisfied that he was done scratching at himself, but he felt a poignant loss without that contact. She was still watching him warmly, like she understood the things he wasn’t willing to admit.

“So…” Sara finally said, seeming to blink out of a trance as she turned to Liam. “We got a lead on our traitor. There’s an angara here being held prisoner by Sloane. Vehn Terev. He’s responsible for turning the Moshae over to the kett.” There was a sorrow in her voice that Jaal felt mimicked in his own heart. They had known someone betrayed them, Evfra had told them as much, but hearing it real right now was upsetting.

Jaal felt a need for contact, and Sara was standing so close to him, but he kept his need to himself. She had responded positively to his touch before, but he wasn’t sure if he was welcome now. She wasn’t even looking at him anymore, so he felt any gesture of that nature would be untoward.

“So we talk to Sloane, see if we can get access to him,” Liam said, downing his drink. Sara nodded absently, her lower lip caught in her teeth. It was an action that Jaal had noticed her do often, and it typically meant she was uncomfortable with something.

“I can’t imagine what his reasons would be,” Sara started, putting words to her discomfort, Jaal reasoned. “People do desperate things when backed into a corner…”

“That is no excuse for his actions!” Jaal snarled, realizing with a start that the words had come out more aggressive than they’d needed to. Sara was looking at him with a startled air, and Jaal immediately felt sheepish.

“I don’t think anyone is prepared to say that what he did was okay, Jaal,” Liam soothed. “So go talk to him.”

“I want to go with you,” Jaal said emphatically. “I want to look upon his face when he explains his reasons for turning our beloved Moshae over to the kett.” The last words were biting, growling. Sara’s expression had softened again in understanding. She nodded, and appreciation for her concern put him at ease.

“I’ll let you two go. Cora needs me to help her watch the ship. At least three exiles have tried to strip the hull already and Kallo nearly leapt out the cockpit window himself trying to stop them.” Liam said, but he gave Jaal a pressing look that betrayed the fact that there were other reasons he was leaving them alone. This, concerning the Moshae was personal, but Liam had also been asking Jaal a lot of questions regarding Sara. He was suspicious that the human knew that his… feelings had changed for her. Considering Jaal had been asking the human man his own questions too he supposed it was probably obvious.

Liam paid his tab and left them alone at the bar. Jaal didn’t realize that he’d been holding in a breath until Sara had her hand on his bicep. It was a human expression, he had learned, that was meant to be comforting. Humans did not have bioelectrics to impart subtle feelings and thoughts, but when he touched her he felt a similar warmth creep through him. The physical contact was still pleasing.

“If you want to go back to the ship, you can. I can do this on my own.” Sara said, sympathetically. “You’ve made it very clear you don’t like it here and I wouldn’t want my dearest angara to be uncomfortable.” She emphasized her words with a small smile. Jaal stilled for a moment, but her eyes had caught his; dark, mysterious and brimming with affection in their umber depths. He knew, very well, that she was discussing the email he had sent her in a very circular fashion; he wished she would be more direct in her feelings, but that wasn’t the human way he had come to learn.

Sending her that email had been a challenge for him, uncertain if he had been reading their interactions correctly and what it implied. He thought—hoped—that her eagerness to return his playful flirtations in kind had meant that she returned his affections. After what had happened at the Forge, seeing her determination and compassion in the face of Akksul’s hatred; after her unwavering trust in him and worry for his safety, he felt an unraveling inside himself that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Since Allia had broken his heart.

It was terrifying to have those walls he had built up for so many years suddenly start to crumble under the weight of this human Pathfinder—an alien, whom by all accounts should have never crossed his path, but fate and circumstance had somehow brought her to his shores.

She was now the yevara guiding him to safe harbor, the light that he followed with a steadfast purpose.

After looking into her eyes that night, the night that Akksul had sent her his letter of reparation, he had thought that he would kiss her. He had tried to at the shuttle pad on Havaarl, but he had lost his nerve then. To correct that mistake had been his intent when he sat with her on the Tempest vidcomm deck. Sara’s face had been so open and waiting while he held her hand, her eyes traveling across his face almost expectantly. He had not worn his ocular lense—it was indecent to do so when they were alone—but he knew with conviction that her heart had been racing as much as his own.

They had been interrupted, and Sara had grown flustered. What did it matter if other people knew? Angara were not afraid to have these things be known. Yet, he needed confirmation on what her heart was telling her. He had to know that it was free to open his own heart again, so he had slaved over that message to her before sleep would claim him that night. He feared her response—her rejection or chastisement for being presumptuous, but she had responded positively, and his heart sang when she returned his overtures of adoration.

He took her subtlety now as added confirmation, they way she fussed over him and pulled his hand away again when he went for the incessant itch under the bandage still on his cheek. Or perhaps, it wasn’t that subtle. Her actions were speaking the words she was hesitant to, so Jaal did his best to match her gestures in the hope to stay within the bounds of her own cultural expectations. He would engage in this dance of distance as long as he needed to; he had to know where it would lead him because his heart was longing for it. It was terrifying and strange, but precious and thrilling all at once: these feelings for an alien, but he was eager to find out where it would take him.

Impulsively he grabbed her hand when she had pulled at him, holding it to him like he was caging something precious in his palm. Perhaps, Reyes Vidal made him that much more desperate to feel her against him and confirm that all the tender sentiments they had shared in previous days had not been a dream. Sara did not pull away or express any concern, so Jaal felt himself ease a little.

“Your dearest angara will suffer through this for your sake,” Jaal said, unable to keep the hopefulness from lacing his words. Sara smiled at him, and surprisingly she placed her other hand on his where he was already holding her.

“I’m glad.” there was a hint of laughter in her words, the sound almost thick with what Jaal reasoned was emotion. Her face grew serious then, the weight of what they were about to learn becoming heavy on her mind. He remembered now, and it made a sickness settle in the pit of his stomach. “If at least, something good can come of this and we can find the Archon…” Sara began to say, but she stopped. Her brow knit with worry, the soft lines of hair that framed her eyes furrowing together. “I don’t mean to say that it was necessary—”

“I know,” Jaal offered hastily. “The Moshae would want us to gain something valuable from the experience. I will be fine. Truly.” He rumbled quietly, looking at the floor. Sara’s hand brushed against his cheek where she could reach—she was so small compared to him—and she exhaled softly before letting go.

Turning on her heels, Sara walked from the bar. Jaal followed her, fearing what was to come.

***

If there was one thing everyone onboard the Tempest knew, it was that when Jaal was in a foul mood everyone could _feel_ it.

The following morning after speaking to Vehn Terev, there was a certain electric charge in the air not unlike the warning of an oncoming storm. Whether it was just the sense of foreboding that came with the discovery of the transponder— the one the traitor had been using to communicate directly with the Archon’s ship—or the literal tension and anger roiling off their resident angara like the swell of air that preceded an oncoming thunderstorm, they would learn that it would not take long to find out.

Sara had been sitting in the mess hall with Liam discussing what they had learned over a shared breakfast before really knowing that something was wrong.

“SAM couldn’t crack the encryption, but Gil is looking into it,” Sara said over her bowl of picked at Blast-O’s. “This whole thing is a mess, but if Gil can get into it then it’ll tell us where exactly Terev was communicating to.”

“How was Jaal?” Liam asked, throwing her a cautious look over his coffee. “He doesn’t seem to be doing too great on Kadara.” Sara thought about her response for a moment, remembering what had transpired while she’d questioned Sloane’s prisoner. “For _many_ reasons.” If Liam was insinuating anything Sara didn’t catch it right away.

“He was… suspiciously quiet the whole time.” Sara set her spoon down, her hunger decidedly diminished. “I was expecting him to say something… hell, I would have thought he’d try and strangle the guy through the cell, but he didn’t. He just stood there.” She frowned, remembering how withdrawn Jaal had seemed after the encounter, even moreso later. It probably hurt, to hear the reasons Vehn Terev had done what he did, betraying his own people and allowing Moshae Sjefa be taken by the kett. “Then when we saw Reyes again I swear I thought he was going to throttle him right there.” Sara wasn’t stupid. It didn’t take a genius to put all the pieces together in order to know the reason Jaal seemed to have an intense dislike of the smuggler.

“Can’t imagine why,” Liam drawled. Sara finally looked up from her cereal to throw him a nasty glare.

“Yes, I _know_ what you’re going to say…” she trailed off, thinking. The angara had been exceptionally moody when they’d gone out to the navpoint to retrieve Terev’s transponder, and Sara knew it hadn’t just been from Kadara’s foul stench and humid atmosphere. Reyes had put his arm around her, much to her chagrin, but she’d been too chicken-shit at the time to push him off her. She’d been so caught off guard that all she’d been able to do was laugh nervously while the smuggler had regaled her with stories about the uprising. By the time she’d managed to convince him that they had _shit to do_ Jaal looked like someone had punched him in the gut but was doing his very best to pretend he didn’t want to scream.

“Reyes is a means to an end, that’s all. There’s no love lost between him and Sloane, and frankly anything to kick her down a few notches is a good thing.” Sara finally offered, but Liam was still giving her _the look_ that suggested he was waiting for her to tell him something. “Alright fine, Jaal and I have… gotten close.”

Liam grinned. “I know. He won’t stop talking about you.” He downed the rest of his coffee. “Besides, you can’t possibly think you two making eyes at each other all the time was all that subtle."

“I know,” Sara scoffed. “Subtlety is not an angaran trait.” 

“When I try and ask him about it he clams up, but then five minutes later he’ll prattle on about you again. Kind of adorable actually...” He raised both his arms, a pointed gesture. “But as soon as he starts asking me about how lady bits work I’m out.”

“I will _end_ you Kosta.” Sara said, pointing her spoon at him as she felt her face get red. She hadn’t…. considered that yet. She felt herself starting to get really warm, an uncomfortably pleasant flutter in her belly making her suck in air. _Change the subject..._ “Besides, Reyes is an ass. I’m this close to punching him in the face myself.” She emphasized a small space between thumb and forefinger.

“Punching who?” Suvi chimed in, fluttering into the room with her tea cup in hand. She began busily making herself another morning brew before turning back around with the question still hanging unanswered.

“Reyes Vidal.” Liam offered helpfully. “Jaal doesn’t like the way he looks at Sara.”

“You guys make it sound like I can’t handle it myself.” Sara wasn’t mad, she supposed, it was actually rather flattering. The fact that the angara wasn’t pestering her about it meant that he was at least being respectful in his concern, trusting that she was perfectly capable of dealing with it.

“No, I just think it’s funny.” Liam smirked. Sara would have thrown her spoon at him if she thought it would help. “Even funnier because he’s pretending it isn’t true. Weird though. I would have thought he'd be very open about it.”

“Jaal is a precious soul. He really cares about you,” Suvi chirped in her typical, soothing way. "I wager, because your human, he doesn't know if telling you would be appropriate." 

“So, is it that obvious?” Sara couldn’t help but roll her eyes, beginning to feel flustered and cornered.

“Oh dear, it’s very obvious…” Suvi had turned back to her tea, voice fluttering over her shoulder like wind chimes. “Peebee told me she saw you two holding hands. It’s lovely really…”

“Of _course_ she did…” Sara groaned, but she knew she was hardly in a position to be mad at the asari. She’d just been walking through a public space, and there they were, out in the open, holding hands and gazing at each other like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

Liam shrugged next to her. “Nobody is judging you. Not like it wasn’t common back home. Why should another galaxy be any different?” He was talking about the Milky Way. Truly judgment had not been what Sara was worried about. She hadn’t really been worried about _anything_ … but relationships had always been a very private thing for her. She didn’t particularly enjoy having her love life, whatever it currently was, on display right now. Especially one that was so alien, in every sense of the word, that she was still trying to figure out.

Suvi made a humming noise at the stove, a confirmation to what Liam had just said, and all Sara could do was lay her head on the table in embarrassment. With a groan, she had been about to shut her eyes until SAM had perked up in her head.

_“Sara, I am detecting an increase in bioelectricity.”_

Simultaneously, Sara could almost feel it, prickling at her senses like one detects they’re about to get struck by lightning. She knew that Liam and Suvi felt it too because they both got very quiet, anticipating the moment the mess hall doors would open. Liam mumbled something that sounded like heads up the second before the doors finally opened and Jaal hurried in with the grace of a tornado. He didn’t look at them, either not seeing them in his haste or pretending they weren’t there.

He was at the refrigerator, probably looking for his nutrient paste, before Suvi, being the closest to him, finally spoke up.

“Good morning, Jaal,” she said, a note of hesitance in her voice. Sara had never seen Jaal this agitated before. 

“Suvi.” The greeting was clipped, and devoid of the angara’s usual warmth.

“Oi, who pissed in your cereal this morning?” Liam opened his mouth before Sara had time to stop him, and she knew that he’d said precisely the wrong thing the second he was done because Jaal froze. Suvi made a noise between a gasp and a squeak, and Sara was about to admonish him until Jaal spun around, his rofjinn nearly hitting Suvi with a slap of blue fabric.

“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND A WORD—” The angara bellowed, and in such a small space his voice _carried_. To Liam’s credit, he actually flinched, probably knowing what he’d said was exceptionally stupid but that wasn’t what stopped Jaal’s furious bellow. Suvi had yelped next to him, her tea mug shattering on the counter-top as she was assailed by the full brunt of Jaal’s rage and the wave of angry bioelectricity that rolled off him like a tsunami. Sara and Liam felt it too, but at a safer distance, and if Jaal’s expression was anything to go by then he knew he had messed up.

The idiom. That had probably set him off being already in an agitated state, and Sara dimly wondered if Liam had done that on purpose. She was annoyed that Liam had opened his mouth at all, and was about to say something until Jaal’s expression hurriedly rearranged itself into something like shame before he fled from the room.

“Liam!” Sara admonished, rounding on him. “What the hell was _that_ for?!”

“He needed to let it out.” Liam shrugged, the gesture annoyingly casually. “So I helped him.” Suvi made a noise like a scoff, carefully picking up the pieces of her mug from the counter to deposit them into the trash.

“I can’t believe you did that on purpose!” Sara could only punch him in the arm, terribly annoyed and concerned about what had just happened. Jaal had never snapped like that before, and she’d never seen his eyes so angry—pupils blown wide open, with lips curled in a snarl that allowed a rare view of his slightly pointed canines. “Suvi we’ll get you a new mug when we’re back on the Nexus…” Sara was sliding out from under the table intending to follow Jaal out of the room, stopping just a moment to help Suvi clean up the final pieces of her broken mug.

“It’s fine dear…” she laughed, nervously, and Sara thought it looked like she was shaking. _She_ was shaking, having never heard Jaal raise his voice like that.

“I’m going to talk to him,” Sara said hurriedly, before rounding on Liam one last time. “You’re not off the hook.” She pointed.

“He’ll feel better for it.”

With an annoyed grunt Sara left the mess hall, not at all surprised to see that Jaal was nowhere to be found. Lexi had poked her head out of the medbay to see what the commotion was about and she caught Sara on her way to the ladder.

“Everything alright? I heard shouting.”

“Liam finally offended Jaal,” Sara muttered, sarcastically, but she found little humor in the statement. “I’m going to go talk to him.” Lexi nodded and returned to the medbay, but she looked worried before disappearing.

Sara knew he would be hiding in the tech lab. That had been his private sanctuary since he’d come aboard, and sure enough the door was closed when she got to it. Jaal hadn’t locked it, so it opened when she pressed at the center panel. She didn’t know what to expect when she walked in, but she hadn’t anticipated that he’d simply be sitting on his bed, fiddling with his rifle. Clearly his heart wasn’t in it, because his fingers kept slipping on the pieces with a litany of heavy curses.

“Hey,” she called in softly. Jaal didn’t look up, but the way he paused indicated that he knew she had entered. Choosing to walk in with confidence, she made her way towards him at the back of the lab, the door swishing shut behind her. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” he grumbled, his voice coming from low in his chest, but she could tell he wasn’t. She could see it in the stilted way he moved against his rifle, like he really didn’t have a point to his actions.

“You’re not very good at lying, you know,” Sara thought, maybe she’d pull a smile out of him, but all he did was frown into his hands. Sidling up closer to him, she thought about pulling the rifle from him if only to stop his slightly sad attempts at looking busy, but she thought better of it. She settled on clasping her hands at her front. “You’ve been agitated since we’ve docked here.”

That stopped him, and he looked up at her suddenly. His big, blue eyes were watery, and although they weren’t tears there was definitely some sort of heavy emotion being expressed there. He shifted, setting the rifle aside where it leaned against the wall, and Sara used that as an excuse to sit next to him.

“I have been… thinking,” Jaal finally offered, looking forward. His hand was still on his rifle as if he was considering picking it up again.

“About what?”

“Trust.” Jaal finally took his hand from the rifle, resting it on his knee. “And honesty.” He added. Sara felt the pit of her stomach fall out from beneath her, knowing exactly what was upsetting him.

“You’re upset about Reyes.”

“No,” Jaal said hurriedly, suddenly going stiff. “A little,’ he amended, his posture easing a little. “Angara value honesty and steadfastness in their partners. Reyes Vidal seems as if he holds neither of those qualities.” It took Sara a moment to process what he’d said, namely partners, but she wasn’t even sure if he’d realized he even said it. It was clear he was admitting he was jealous without really saying the words. That was… oddly evasive of him.

“You aren’t usually this vague, Jaal.” Sara said quietly. She hadn’t noticed her hand had come to rest on his thigh until she felt it shift beneath her palm. “Are you… actually jealous? You talk about honesty as a virtue, but you aren’t really practicing it right now, yeah? So be honest.”

That seemed to click with him as he sunk a little into his bed, posture bending forward just slightly. He still wasn’t looking at her, choosing to stare at the floor.

“No, it would be true to say that I did not enjoy him in your company, namely because I do not trust that he lacks an ulterior motive.” That… sort of got to the heart of it, but Sara wondered if she’d just have to read between the lines. “He appears too _comfortable_ in your presence, as if meaningless flirtations will distract you from what he seeks to gain from your help.”

“Is that all?” Sara certainly knew when a guy was flirting with her, so she’d caught on to Reyes’ uninvited glances and physical gestures immediately. “You got all that just by looking at him?” Judging by the rather similar fashion Jaal had been flirting with her she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. The difference being she had been clear in how much she'd enjoyed his attention in that way, so it was welcome.

Jaal looked at her finally, and he was frowning. He tapped at the lense covering his right eye, and Sara immediately got his meaning.

“Ah, I kind of figured that’s what that was.” Sara chuckled. “So you’ve been reading everyone’s biometrics since you got on the ship?”

“I was. When I did not trust anyone yet. I’ve been trying not to as of late. I realize it may be seen as invasive, so I have not been wearing it when we are alone.” He looked away again, and she thought she saw his cheeks darken and wondered if she’d finally caught him blushing. "Or... with the others." He meant the rest of the crew.

Sara knew she could have been annoyed with Jaal’s jealousy, were it anyone else, but she found that she really couldn’t feel it. Under the circumstances she begrudgingly admitted that she quite liked that level of attention from him. He’d only really openly told her once she’d pressed him for it, so it wasn’t like he’d presented it to her in any sort of forceful manner. Liam had sort of pushed him over the edge, which was why they were even having this conversation at all. At the same time, she didn’t like that he’d felt the need to hide it.

“I must apologize Sara. I fear that my temperament since we’ve been on Kadara has made me act impulsively in this matter.” He was finally looking at her again, eyes soft and sparkling in the light of the tech room. His breath ghosted across her face, making her flush. “It’s not a reflection on you… it’s just that… I hate it here.” He inhaled then, one rumbling breath that had a very alien quality to its rattle, his final words coming out like a croak of shameful admission.

“Well I appreciate the honesty.” Sara mused, but she was quite thankful that he’d been willing to just come forward with what had clearly been an internal battle he’d been fighting on his own. “Since I guess we’re being honest with each other, I think it’s only fair to tell you that Reyes is not my type.” She laughed nervously, suddenly finding it hard to look him in the eyes.

“What does that mean?” She should have known he wouldn’t understand.

“Um, when we say someone is or isn’t our type, it means that they hold or lack characteristics that attracts them to us.” She was getting warm, and didn’t realize her hand was _still_ on his thigh until he moved slightly towards her, not unlike when he’d just barely dipped into her personal space when they’d first met on Aya. That felt like so long ago now....

“Ah. So you have a… _type_ … then?”

 _You cheeky little shit, you know exactly what you’re doing. Fine, I’ll bite._ “Uh yeah, you know, tall, mysterious, big beautiful eyes and a voice to die for. Scars are a plus.” The way he his lips slowly curled into a knowing smirk all throughout her stuttering admission spoke volumes. Sara wanted to slap herself for even having the guts to come out and say it like this. _Has it gotten hotter in this room?_

“I see.” Jaal’s voice had pitched lower, and he shifted away again. Sara thought if an angara could look smug then this was what it would look like.

After a moment, Sara scrambled for something to say to cut into the silence they had slipped into, wanting to change the subject. She was getting warm, and that was making her antsy. “Ah, you should probably apologize to Suvi.”

“Yes. I should.” Jaal frowned, looking genuinely disappointed in himself.

“And Liam… I think… he knew you were keeping something to yourself and he was just trying to help you...ah, let it all out.” Jaal made a noise that sounded like a snort of amusement, but it was deeper and more rattling, like it came from very deep in his gut.

“I will have to think of a creative way to insult him later.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sara laughed, finally able to move her hand enough to pat him on the thigh. "Suvi mentioned that maybe you've been hesitant to be honest about certain things because you're not sure how we're all going to take it. I know that's hard for you, so please don't keep these kinds of things to yourself." The slight dip of his head was acknowledgment enough, and Sara was satisfied with this. She was about to stand up and leave, but Jaal’s hand suddenly went to her own where it was on his leg, effectively stopping her from moving.

“Sara, there’s something else I must tell you.” He seemed hurried. “I must confess something.” The almost apprehensive look in his eyes told her that this was not something he particularly wanted to express, but could not keep it to himself any longer. She supposed their talk about honesty was bringing it out of him, she just wasn't expecting him to put it into practice right away.

As if reading her thoughts, he continued. “It would be hypocritical of me to preach honesty and not share this with you now.”

“Okay, what is it?” The way he held her gaze with pained, uncertain fear made her frown.

“When I boarded the Tempest, I stated the intended purpose was to be an envoy through angara space. That was not the whole truth of it.” Jaal paused, as if waiting for her word to continue so she could absorb what he just said. Instead, Sara let out a puff of air, relaxing slightly. She’d suspected that this was going to come out eventually, one way or another.

“You had orders from Evfra to kill us all if we so much as looked at Aya wrong.” She finished for him, and for a minute Jaal looked startled, eyes wide and brimming with confusion just bordering on horror. “Jaal, I already knew this.”

“H-how?” Truthfully, his panicked look was kind of endearing.

“Because if we were in your position, we would have done the same thing. Why do you think we all locked our doors behind us for a while?” Sara knew the conversation wasn’t funny, but she had to admit the way his face had morphed from pain, to shock, to something close to relief was mildly entertaining. “Also, SAM kind of predicted that it was a very high possibility, you know?” She tapped at her temple, as if to emphasize her point. “That’s just so very _Evfra_ to pull something like that. He may as well have strapped a bomb to the hull. It would have been less obvious. You also did threaten to kill me in my sleep before we even left the docks.” Looking back now, it was just another thing to laugh at, even though by all rights she probably should have taken the threat more seriously at the time. But if she had, things may have turned out far differently than they did, and she wasn’t really sure she wanted that.

“That thought pains me very deeply now…” he added, the sincerity heartfelt and pure. He finally seemed to relax a little, his eyes searching over her face as if needing further confirmation that she wasn’t going to immediately throw him off the ship.

“Well it’s a good thing we didn’t give you a reason to,” she laughed, giving his leg a gentle, affectionate squeeze. His hand reciprocated the gesture, his expression returning to one of fondness. “It’s okay. We all knew, and we understood. It’s behind us now.” Jaal nodded, seemingly satisfied at the reassurance. He certainly seemed far more relaxed than he did when she’d first walked into the room. “Besides, you know SAM would have never let you through the door. Even if you did manage to bypass the lock he would have warned me before you even got into my room.”

Jaal’s eyes narrowed, and his expression got strangely dark.

“Perhaps, I have other ways of getting into your quarters.” The fact that it was a statement rather than a question made Sara’s cheeks get really warm. She _shouldn’t_ have found such a flirtation veiled by a not-serious threat strangely thrilling, but the huskiness of his voice was.... _moving_ her in ways that were downright scandalous.

“Oh… hah, well…” she stuttered, and she knew she was blushing bright red because Jaal had that twinkle in his eyes that was always there when she was losing all sense around him. She had no idea how he managed to pull out the flustered mess of a girl in her. _Hand still on his leg… time to go..._

“You don’t,” Sara finally managed. She knew he was joking and was only trying to rile her up. “You’re just messing with me, I know you are.” She thought back to the first time she used such an expression with him, and how she’d had to explain its meaning. Now, he understood her meaning quite clearly and used it to his advantage.

“Maybe.” he rumbled, and his breath splayed across her already flushed cheeks making her eyes flutter. “The alternative depending on whether or not you want to find out.”

“That’s creepy, Jaal! Don’t do that!” Sara shrieked, barely holding back the laugh that was threatening to escape her throat. She finally tore her hand from his leg to push him uselessly against his bed, but she may as well have been pushing the Nomad for all the good it did.

_“Sara. I am unable to confirm that there are additional access points into your quarters.”_ SAM interrupted, almost uselessly. 

_“I know, SAM. He’s joking.”_

_“I detect your heart rate and respiration have increased, along with an unusual fluctuation in your hormonal composition. Do I need to alert Dr. T’Perro that you will be coming to the medbay?”_

_“SAM.”_

The same time she was having the internal battle of words with SAM, Jaal was hastily trying to put together an apology, likely fearing that he’d crossed a line.

“—I didn’t mean to alarm you, I was only—”

“—Jaal, it’s fine...I know you wouldn’t do that.” Sara had to press her hands to his cheeks, mindful of his bandage, to wipe the deeply worrying look off his face. “This is what messing with someone means. You performed admirably.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at this, admittedly the rush of it all slightly exhilarating to her. Truthfully she didn’t particularly mind the dark turn the flirtation had just taken, but she half suspected that Jaal was using it as a deflection, like he needed to hastily confirm again that she was eager to explore whatever this was with him and had spoken without thinking things through. Given how uncomfortable he seemed discussing Reyes and the whole Evfra’s-orders-situation, she wagered his confidence had taken a pretty nasty shot the last few days. Clearly, he would never make good on such a statement, and she trusted him implicitly.

Yet still she couldn’t resist. Sara stood, dipping her face close to his with a smirk. Jaal’s eyes went wide, and his mouth went a little slack with shock.

“Besides, wait till I invite you in…” She purred, trying her hardest not to laugh. Letting the suggestion hang between them she broke away, turning to leave the room before calling over her shoulder. “Now go apologize to Suvi, will you?”

It was probably a good thing that she didn’t look over her shoulder, otherwise Jaal would have seen how furiously red her face had gotten. However, she missed the darkened flush that had engulfed his own face as he sat dumbfounded on his bed, shocked beyond all measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Sara nearly dies, Jaal reacts.
> 
> *Note* I fully realize that under the right circumstances what Jaal says at the end could be construed as wildly inappropriate, but that was kind of the intent. Not everything he says can be a winner, especially when he's navigating a tricky new relationship with an alien. Besides, Sara is kind of into it, because they've already been flirting pretty heavily to begin with so there's already some mutual attraction that's been established there.


	4. The Archon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Archon's flagship. What happens when Jaal looks on helplessly as Sara dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only loosely followed the path of the actual flagship and I cut and rearranged some things just for sake of ease so this isn't a faithful interpretation of how that mission goes. I also have a slightly different interpretation of the Archon, which is a little out of control, but I happen to like it. All intentional.
> 
> I'm also going to be changing the rating here to M just to be sure due to violence, language and upcoming romance and likely sexy times.

Later, Sara was in her quarters going over her latest onslaught of emails from Tann and Addison, along with a few from Kesh telling her to _ignore_ those emails, when SAM pinged her. He materialized as a shimmering, shifting orb at the console on her desk, directly to her left.

“Sara, Jaal is attempting to access the water temperature controls in the crew quarters.” SAM’s relative lack of inflection didn’t really impart much more information, but Sara’s interest was piqued.

“Oh?” She smirked, the mention of Jaal causing a flutter low in her belly. Sara had only seen the angara briefly after her last talk with him, when he’d later found Suvi on the bridge to apologize for the previous upset. It had taken him… surprisingly a while to leave the Tech Lab after she’d left, and Sara couldn’t help but wonder if she’d had more of an effect on him than she’d intended to. The implications made her cheeks burn.

Jaal had proven many times over that he was exceptionally intelligent, and given his propensity for tinkering with everything he got his hands on, it was no surprise that he’d figured out how to mess with the Tempest systems in no time. One of the first things Sara had said to him however, was to not take apart the ship, and Jaal had made good on that promise. The only times he would actually tinker was when he was helping Gil with some sort of modification or adjustment to the ship’s systems, so if he was trying to access something on his own, he was up to something. “Why would he be doing that SAM?”

“I believe he means to _get back_ at Liam for earlier.” SAM added a small inflection to emphasize the conversational nature of his response, something he had been starting to do more frequently.

“Liam is in the showers, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

Sara smiled into her computer screen, loving this turn of events. Served Liam right, really.

“Give him access SAM.” It wasn’t that the water systems were locked down, although few on the ship had access to the controls. Jaal had simply never attempted before, but Sara supposed that it was a reasonable request given the circumstances.

There was quiet for a few minutes after, SAM having disappeared again without any further discussion on the topic. Eventually, there was a distant _clang_ from somewhere in the direction of the crew quarters, followed quickly by a string of very loud cursing that was unintelligible from her room. A deep, rumbling laughter followed soon after, although it sounded more like Drack than her angara, and she reasoned that Jaal was probably elsewhere on the ship—sitting comfortably from the safety of a distant location just to prove to Liam that he was a force to be reckoned with. Sara hoped, Liam would pack that away for later and remember it next time he wanted to open his mouth.

And with that, balance seemed to have been restored.

Sara would later muse that it was good to have those in between moments between missions. It was good to interact, to bond, to keep busy with the things they truly cared about because it had all very quickly started to fall to shit.

Before even making it to the Archon’s location, two fresh hells had fallen onto Sara’s lap in the form of Drack and Vetra. Drack was concerned about the stability of the krogan colony on Eladaan, and Vetra’s sister had some concerns about missing colonists and wanted to talk to the Pathfinder about it. All that, was going to have to take a back seat for the time being, because the more pressing concern was the looming threat that would make all of it inconsequential should they all be _dead._

Gil had finally managed to break through the encryption, but the transponder had been broken. _Great, that was worthwhile_ , Sara had thought blandly, but the engineer had insisted that he thought he could get it to work _long enough_ to at least glean a navpoint out of it. Unfortunately, Gil’s fix included turning it on, thus opening up a communication channel directly to the Archon’s ship. If they could get a navpoint, then theoretically, so could the kett.

“Be careful. That’s a direct line to people who want to murder everyone on this ship,” Gil had said to her, the deeply troubling implications behind his words masked behind sarcasm. Turning the transponder on put the Tempest at risk, but they had to know where the Archon was. He had the key to finding Meridian, their saving grace to fix all these dying planets, locked away on his ship somewhere. The success of the Initiative, and the angara for that matter, depended on it.

So Sara had turned it on, and the immediate, garbled demands from the kett on the other end would have been enough to make her cut the communication right then, but Gil had insisted that _just a minute more_ and he could get the origin point of the signal.

Sara had started to rethink the entire plan as she looked out at the Archon’s massive flagship from the Tempest bridge. There was also one more hitch in the plan: The Archon’s ship was tethered to the salarian ark.

“They don’t appear to notice us,” Kallo had confirmed, and that was probably just as well, because they were a very tempting target. Kallo had been able to slide the Tempest in to dock with ark Paarchero by hiding behind the massive ship itself, thus allowing them a quick and easy means of infiltration.

“Keep stealth engaged just in case. You never know,” her command had been cautious. There was nothing to suggest the kett weren’t just biding their time.

Everything else had been a blur: The salarian Pathfinder Zevin Raeka was alive, currently fighting her way through the kett flagship to find her captured people. Hundreds, maybe thousands of salarians had been captured, experimented on, murdered, and Sara couldn’t save them all. Drack was leading Cora and Liam through the ship to save his missing scouts that had been taken by the kett some time ago. No one needed to know what an exalted krogan would be like. Though all of that paled in comparison to what she faced now.

Sara was staring directly into the eyes of the Archon himself.

Nothing had prepared for for this. She had seen the Archon before from the safety of the Tempest bridge with dark space and a vid screen between them. He was a distant threat that she could tuck away in the back of her mind. Standing in his presence now, exhausted and battered after fighting waves of kett, locked in place by a stasis field preventing her from moving, was a fresh terror that Sara had never experienced before.

As soon as they’d made it to the room that looked to be some sort of laboratory, Sara knew something was wrong. SAM had tried to warn her that there were already kett signatures in the room, but she’d been too distracted by the dead salarian bodies around her to notice. They had made it nearly a dozen steps in before being stopped in their tracks by the coils of energy and light that now had them frozen in place. Then the Archon had emerged from the shadows of the room like a phantom, a deep resonating chuckle pouring from his lips as he stalked forward.

Sara was mad. She was _furious_ and terrified and helpless all at the same time and she hated that feeling to her very core. She tried to force the fury to the forefront as the Archon locked eyes with her, their milky white, almost translucent depths piercing with a calculating precision that made Sara feel naked and bound. Her armor was nothing, the weapons she had dropped uselessly to the floor when her hands couldn’t grasp them may as well have not been there. The Archon had stripped her bare with nothing more than a cold, appraising stare as he stood before her.

Peebee had insisted on coming with, wanting to see the Remnant relic for herself and maybe steal a few pieces from the Archon’s private collection. Jaal was with her… but he was… always with her now. Sara wished, she had ordered them to remain on the ship, because they now hung just as helplessly as she did.

The soft angles of the Archon’s face shifted—he was disarmingly soft in his facial features, but the bony halo crest that circled his crown gave him all the beauty of a demonic angel. The rigid, angular pieces of his armor only accentuated this vision, tubing and tech interwoven with plating and bony protrusions. His eyes traveled her form, and Sara felt her skin crawl at the almost… reverent attention he paid to her body, and it was enough to nearly force the bile up her throat.

His almost obsessive fascination with her had been apparent from the first time they spoke. The few interactions she’d had through vid screens tinged with a hungry rage that bordered on manic—predatory in the way he asserted he would _have her_ , and she could run from him to the edges of Heleus but never be able to hide. She had achieved something he had never been able to. She could control Remnant technology, and all his years of trying had never gotten him as far as Sara had been able to in a single day. He had to know how, whatever it took.

And now, he had her.

No amount of struggling against the bounds that held them in place would free them. Sara could not even move her head. It was a wonder she could breath. All she could do was hang, limp and afraid while the Archon put his hands on her. She could do little more than flinch when his bony fingers encircled her throat to examine his quarry. The gentle squeeze enough to make her wheeze, her breath already gasping, but strangling her was not his intention today.

“Don’t touch her, you weird fuck!” Sara heard Peebee shout, voice unusually shaky. It would have warmed her heart, to hear the concern and fear in the asari’s voice but it didn’t matter. The Archon didn’t even look at her. A slow, yearning smile tugged at his lips as he gently yanked Sara’s head to-and-fro in an admiring gesture like she was some sort of show animal.

Sara thought she heard Jaal say something, the thundering pulse in her ears making it hard to catch the garbled mess of Shalesh her translator couldn’t process. It was low, and threatening, whatever it was, and she could sense his tense anger and fear roiling off him in quick pulses of electrical feeling—a rhythmic succession like a repeating pattern, almost in time with her thudding heartbeat.

The Archon looked then, his eyes sliding up towards Jaal to her right, his expression shifting to one of mild disinterest as if Jaal was nothing more than a nuisance. Sara thought with a start, that he was going to kill him, and there was nothing she could do about it as she went numb from head to toe. 

_“Sara, we are in very real danger.”_

There was no point in responding to SAM. The message had been received pretty clearly from the moment the stasis field had captured them.

“Harm her and it will be the last thing you do...” She heard Jaal’s voice then, the visceral snarl in his words near feral, the pulsing of his rage intensifying nearly ten-fold to the point that Sara could feel it in her back teeth. It was… a noble effort, _but none of us can move_ , Sara managed in her thoughts, fighting an impulse to scream if only to draw the Archon’s gaze back to her. _If he doesn’t look at them, maybe he’ll forget about them…_

It was stupid to think that really, but Sara didn’t have much to grasp on to anymore, and in a last-ditch effort to wipe the smirk off the Archon’s mouth she mustered up whatever courage she could gather, and spat in his face.

That got the Archon’s attention. His head swiveled back to her, brow angling into the closest approximation of annoyance she’d ever seen on his face during their hurried interactions. A single hand went up to stroke the wetness on his cheek, his eyes lingering far longer on the line of her throat than she was comfortable with.

“My eyes are up here, asshole,” Sara ground out, not really having the sense to think about what she was saying before she said it. The Archon’s head tilted then, and for the first time he spoke.

“Such an unlikely rival, a pitiful thing from another galaxy.” He angled her head up, exposing her throat, his other hand dropping to his side. His voice, deep and throaty, but it rattled with a familiar resonant twang, not unlike Jaal’s. “It was almost invigorating to have one. And yet—” There was an impression of movement, like he was reaching for something with the hand that wasn’t on her. “—it’s a fitting end.” Sara had only the briefest of glimpses of that idle hand coming up to her face before she felt the sharp prick of something—a _needle_ , she realized with a numb horror—plunge into her neck. A shudder ran through her, the subtle sense of suctioning from where the needle impaled her instilling a violent surge of sickness that bubbled up from the pit of her stomach where it sat just at the base of her throat.

Peebee and Jaal yelled something in unison at that moment, a chorus of anger that sounded distant and unintelligible as the Archon siphoned blood from her neck. She could do nothing but stare dumbly up at him, his eyes once again locking onto hers with a passive reflection.

“I will _break_ you human.” The low rumble was almost intimate, touched by a subdued, giddy pleasure. “Save your strength.” The undeniable threat in the request sent a cold chill down Sara’s spine.

Then just as quickly as it began, the Archon pulled away. Sara felt the needle slide out of her skin with a stomach-turning smoothness, the vial she could now see filled with her own blood.

_“I believe the Archon intends to study your genetic profile.”_

_“NO. SHIT.”_

It was because of her father that this had all begun. Alec Ryder, activating that first piece of Remnant tech on Habitat-7, had somehow left an imprint that the Archon had been able to detect. Sara didn’t particularly understand the mechanism behind it, but she knew with conviction that what the Archon was after was the answer to just how her father had done it. By extension, that meant her, sharing a genetic profile with the man now long-since dead. It was all genetics. The kett were obsessed with them, harnessing perfection in the chemical code, and now, she was Archon’s experiment to manipulate.

What the kett didn’t really understand, was that it was all SAM. It wasn’t _her_ that was special, it was SAM integrated into her very being that made it all possible, but she wasn’t about to tell them that.

They were left hanging when the Archon left the room, flanked by his personal guard, but there was an unsaid promise in the silence that he would be back. This wasn’t over. Sara ran through all the possible ways in which they would all be experimented on, mutilated, and killed. Not surprisingly, none of them were appealing in the slightest. It would not be a quick death. They needed to get out of there.

Sara thought, that either Jaal or Peebee were about to say something, but she beat them to it.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, feeling a trickle of something slide down her neck. It was either sweat or blood, maybe both.

“Sara…” she heard Jaal say, and it was almost pained the way her name fell out of his mouth, but every ounce of her strength wasn’t enough to turn to him.

“Well, now what?” Peebee started, voice high, but she was trying to mask it with her typical flippancy.

“Sara, I am sensing a biological transmitter in your bloodstream. I am neutralizing it now.” SAM finally said, communicating to the three of them, although it was woefully unhelpful. So the Archon had not only taken a blood sample from her without her consent, he’d also injected her with something that sounded suspiciously like a tracker. 

“Alright, that’s just great.” Sara managed between gritted teeth. “Any idea how we’re going to get out of here?”

“The containment fields only interact with living matter. If you expire, the field around you will extinguish until manually reset.” Sara didn’t particularly know what to say to that because it wasn’t helpful, but SAM continued. “As you know, my access to your physiology allows me to enhance your vital signals when required. I can also do the opposite.” A thread of realization wormed it’s way into Sara’s mind before the full-blown weight of what SAM suggested materialized with a jolt of panic.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, kinda don’t want to die today SAM!” Sara tried not to let the sheer panic lace her words, but she was struggling. The same knot of sickness and fear that had been sitting just below her throat was starting to edge upwards, her heart thudding just below it impossibly fast. She didn’t know her heart could beat so fast.

“Sara…” Jaal’s voice, low and almost weak. She wanted to turn to him, to assure him that everything was going to be fine, but the fact that she couldn’t even look him in the eye made this all the worse. He was going to watch her die, and that somehow made her fear this all the more.

Sara’s arms were starting to feel numb— _Am I having a stroke? Maybe I’m having a stroke… would save SAM the trouble..._

“After stopping your heart, I would attempt to resuscitate of course.” _Obviously._

She would never know what might have been with the Jaal. She would never know what they could have shared, what sort of future they could have carved out of their own slice of Heleus when this was all over. She would never know if that was really what he wanted, if this had all been a game to him, or what his lips would feel like...

“Ryder, you can’t be serious,” Peebee scoffed, although the waver in her voice betrayed the fact that she was terrified of this option just as much as she was. 

“There has to be another way, SAM,” Sara finally managed, her voice smaller and weaker than she would have wanted. The definitive prospect of death was probably the reason for it.

“None that I can determine.”

It had to be done. She was the Pathfinder, and she had to get them out of there. Everyone, _everyone_ was counting on her.

“Alright… do it SAM.” Her breathing was labored, a tremble just underneath her skin as she resisted the urge to vomit right then and there. That would have been a classy way to go...

“Sara… _no_ …” Jaal again, this time more forceful, and desperate, but she had to shut him out. This would work.

 _“Sara, I will simulate a dose of oxytocin now…”_ To calm her. Bless that stupid AI.

_“Thank you SAM…”_

“Stopping your heart...now.” SAM announced, no emotion or change in his voice at all to hint at the gravity of his actions.

There was no turning back now. Sara felt a rush of calm cascade over her and she finally released the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

It was her last. Then, there was nothing but black.

***

When Sara’s body hit the floor, limp and lifeless, Jaal felt a fear unlike anything he had ever experienced.

Not even in all his years of battling the kett, not even when the bullet had ripped through his neck nearly killing him, leaving a deep scar during a mission. Not even when he’d learned that his father was not coming home and that Allia and his brother had been taken by the kett. This was different. This he was _feeling_ with a precision that was gut-wrenching, and his heart seized the moment her head hit the floor with a sickening hollow _crack._

His strength would do no good in this endeavor, as any struggle against the snapping, flickering strings of energy that bound him was met with greater resistance. He could do nothing but watch her body, still and silent on the floor before him, her face a mask of false calm as her eyes looked unseeing above her. The wound cut deeper than any kett bullet ever could have, it cut deeper than the pang of sadness and loss that Allia had left behind in his heart. The whine that escaped his throat—he thought, maybe he’d said _darling one_ but he couldn’t be sure—was the only sound that punctuated the silence until Peebee spoke.

“SAM?” Her voice wavered.

“Stimulating the cardiovascular core.” The AI intoned blandly, no hint of emotion in the words. An AI could not feel what he was feeling, or know his pain, how could it express the full weight of anguish that was threatening to burst from Jaal’s very core? 

“Zero activity.” SAM noted. Sara did not move. There was no trace of movement or change to indicate that SAM had done anything at all. Seconds were slipping by.

“Stimulating the cardiovascular core…” The AI repeated. More seconds slipped by, but Sara remained motionless. Whatever fate awaited them now, when the Archon returned, Jaal would welcome it. His life would be the last thing he would allow the kett—the universe—to take from him.

Suddenly, Sara gasped, breath filling her lungs as she squirmed on the floor in an attempt to lift her body. Peebee made a whooping noise of relief next to him, but Jaal couldn’t be sure of the noise he made when he saw her shakily raise her upper body with her arms. The relieved cry that left his lips was rasping with the breath he had been holding in his chest. He didn’t even know he could make such a noise. Pure, raw, feeling flooded through his system that he couldn’t even really approximate, but the only real descriptor he could find for it was _love._

Sara groaned, looking around on shaking arms as she slowly lifted her body off the floor, appearing to struggle with her own weight. Blinking rapidly, once she managed to get to her feet she stumbled to a console at the side of the room, possibly at the direction of SAM privately. She righted herself, muttering, “Really sick of dying…”

Jaal’s hands itched with longing, he wanted to touch her, to make sure she was truly okay. He could feel his bioelectricity buzzing anxiously with a desire that was overwhelming, rippling under his skin like a searing heat. Sara finally looked, her eyes slightly hazy and half-lidded, rimmed in red.

“You two look comfortable,” she quipped, voice strained as a small smile slipped across her face. 

“RYDER!” Peebee yelled, voicing the urgency that Jaal felt but words were hard to come by at the moment. He didn’t know what to say, or even really do once Sara slammed her fist down somewhere on the console, and there was an immediate release of pressure as the stasis field fizzled out. 

Jaal’s first impulse would have been to directly go to her, to scoop her up into his arms just to feel that she was real and alive against him. But, he stood dumbly where the stasis field had freed him, staring into Sara’s pained eyes with a question hanging between them: _am I welcome?_ He finally managed a step forward, and her brow twitched as she frowned, finally walking around the console towards them. Her eyes never left his, and she looked… guilty. Why?

There were finally words he could speak, that were on his lips the moment that Sara threw her arms around him with a choking cry. Jaal felt an outpouring of affection flood from him like an electrical current as he tentatively pulled her close, facing dropping to the top of her head as relief nearly made him go weak. He buried his face in her warmth, huffed into her hair with a tremoring warble. It tickled his nose as he drank in her scent: dirt, sweat, and blood and the faint floral of her shampoos but he didn’t care because it smelled _alive._

“Euugh, there will be time for that later, we have to go!” Peebee was already rushing to the opposite side of the chamber looking for an exit.

It lasted for seconds, but it was enough. She felt so small and slight in his arms, and he wanted to draw her in further, somehow, but the small tremble on her form persuaded him that it would not be smart. She was likely still recovering from what had just happened, and crushed bones from angaran affection was not an added discomfort she would need. He settled on this small comfort for now, focusing on her warmth that he could drink in like the sun.

Sara finally pulled away, looking deep into his eyes with a longing he’d never seen before, and he needed it as much as he needed air. But, now was not the time.

***

Pulling away from Jaal reluctantly, Sara sniffed, meeting the angara’s eyes as she untangled herself from his grasp. He looked pained, his blue eyes a frightened mask of disbelief and uncertainty, and she knew with conviction that she never wanted to see that look on his face again.

Taking those few seconds to simply drown in him had been worth it. He _still_ managed to smell good despite battling through a kett flagship, and she wanted to commit that scent to memory.

Sara could tell he didn’t want to let go. The way his hands hung in the air just above her as she shifted away was enough of a giveaway, and truthfully she could have stood there with him for minutes more but Peebee’s annoyed huff at the other end of the room was enough to remind Sara that they were still in very deep trouble.

“These doors are all locked!” Peebee grunted, kicking at a locked door on the other side of the chamber. The Archon had been re-routing them away from his private chambers since they got on board; he’d tried to anyway. SAM had been leading them through an alternate route and giving them access through locked doors when he could.

“SAM, anyway out of this cage?” Sara said finally, rubbing absently at her face as if there were tears there, but it was more of a calming gesture than anything. She collected her weapon from the ground and holstered it.

“All routes out of this chamber have been locked down. However, there is a maintenance tunnel that should connect to the Archon’s chambers.”

That was the plan then, and with a renewed urgency they collected what had been dropped in the struggle. Sara looked at Jaal one last time as he slung his rifle over his shoulder, looking about as doggedly determined as she’d ever seen him.

With SAM’s direction they were able to pick their way through the dank tunnels of the ship’s core, passing a number of discarded salarian cryo pods. Sara avoiding looking at them, not wanting to face the reality that there could still be colonists in there, dead and never to see the light of day in Andromeda.

Surprisingly they encountered no further kett resistance as one-by-one they dropped from the maintenance tunnels into an antechamber. The room was large and cavernous, empty aside from their hollow steps as they made their way to the large door at the far end.

Sara wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when she walked through, but it was not the large room with a viewport looking out to space that they stepped into. The salarian ark could be seen hanging silently in the distance like a cloud.

“Pathfinder, we’re back on Paarchero. We’re ready for the EMP when you are, just say the word.” Raeka’s voice gurgled through their comms. That took care of one problem, Sara thought, and it at least meant they could get the ark safely out of firing range before the kett's systems recovered from the blast. They had to get out of here and back on the Tempest in one piece first.

“Alright, we need to find the Map to Meridian,” Sara mumbled, her Omni-tool beginning to scan as Peebee bounded through the room.

“Shit, look at all this!” The asari was far too giddy than what should have been legal, as she scuttled around the various Remnant pieces that littered the room on pedestals. Sara let Peebee continue, not particularly caring if any extra pieces went missing from the Archon’s collection because as far as she was concerned the bastard had it coming.

Jaal hung close to Sara, keeping a reasonable distance from her so as not to hover, but near enough should she need his assistance she reasoned. Although, in a way, she knew why he was staying close to her. He’d just watched her die and come back to life. There was no easy way to get your emotions around that, and knowing _Jaal_ he was probably going through a decent amount of turmoil. She suspected as soon as they got back to the Tempest he was going to make his relief clear, but what exactly that entailed Sara had no idea. Something tickled up her spine at the notion, wondering if this was a turning point. She glanced at him a few times as if she could read his intentions, but Jaal’s attention alternated between her with a deeply affectionate gaze, and the various Remnant junk around the room that he regarded with decidedly less interest.

Finally, at the very end of the chamber, the last item they scanned, SAM intoned:

“This is the relic the Moshae described. It does seem to be a map.”

Reaching out, Sara activated the relic while SAM overlayed the Remnant star chart they had found in the vault on Eos. It was no longer a surprise when the Remnant technology responded to her call, but a quiet thrill rippled through her as the image of Meridian itself emerged amongst the mapped out stars.

“That’s it... “ Sara breathed. “That’s Meridian.”

“We can save this whole damn cluster,” Peebee added as she finally sidled up next to them. Jaal said nothing. He stared at the Remnant map before him as if in a disbelieving trance. This would be the key to jump-starting the vaults and preserving Heleus.

“So that’s what you’re after…” Sara felt her blood run cold as the Archon’s voice emerged from behind them, a brutal chill running down her spine as her hand immediately flew to her gun. They turned in unison, guns drawn and Sara thought that Jaal might have shifted closer to her in the exchange, his hands tense on his rifle. It wasn’t the Archon behind them however, but only a projection of him as he walked confidently towards the trio.

“There’s more to Meridian than simply changing the weather. That is only a fraction of it’s power.” The image of the Archon got close. Instinctively Sara took a step back, weapon still drawn despite knowing there was really nothing to shoot. Peebee and Jaal did not move from their positions at her flanks. “I will not let you defile it.”

“Try and stop me, shithead.” Sara barked. “So far you’re 0 for 1. Couldn’t keep us in your little trap before, could you?”

The image of the Archon faced her, lips twitching with a knowing smirk.

“That was not you. That was the AI in your head,” the Archon’s words were a near purr as the projection squared it’s body towards her. Sara tried to think wildly for some type of response, to refute the Archon’s revelation, because if he _knew_ … “I’ve seen what transpired in the laboratory… and I know now what makes you special now. And I know there is another. I will have it. If I have to kill you first to obtain it then so be it.”

 _Shit, Scott!_ That wasn’t good, never mind the fact that the Archon has just directly threatened her life. 

Turning quickly, the Archon’s image stalked away, his voice traveling over his shoulder.

“Meridian is mine. I’ve tolerated you long enough.”

Before the Archon’s image even disappeared, the holographic projection rippled and distorted as a volley of gunfire rained down upon them, kett filling the room with a cacophony of shouts. Sara barely had time to dive out of the way behind a pedestal before a hail of gunfire shredded through her shields. Peebee had darted to the opposite side, and Sara realized that Jaal was behind her as soon as he began to return fire, the resounding boom of his rifle making her ears ring.

Bullets shredded the pedestal they hid behind, and Sara ducked around to return fire. One, two, three Chosen went down in a cobalt spray of blood and she fell back, chunks of stone peppering her face and stinging her skin. She caught sight of the Anointed running to flank Peebee just in time to keep the asari from getting shredded.

“Peebee! Your right!” Instinctively Sara leapt forward, using the cover of Jaal’s firing to get into a new position where she’d get a better angle. The Anointed saw her movement, immediately retrained its gun to follow her path and started spraying bullets. Sara felt the concussive force as it tore at her shielding, her own return fire doing nothing to change the kett’s trajectory. Jaal had swiveled around to add his own bullets to the fray as he took down the last of the remaining kett that filled the entryway.

A loud, fizzling _crack_ was all Sara heard as her shields broke, then a brief increase in pressure around her as she became exposed, just barely diving behind another pedestal in time. She was stunned for a split-second, a dull pain rippling out from her abdomen where the shields had cracked and failed, spreading throughout her entire body as she took a needed second to regain composure. With a stilling breath, Sara was bringing her gun around to return fire, only to see the Anointed be flung violently against the wall in a snapping aura of blue and a _whoomph_ of noise.

“MOTHER FUC—” Peebee’s enraged shout rang out as her biotics rippled across her body, the Anointed falling dead and still on the ground.

And just like that it was over.

Sara allowed herself a moment to breathe, reaching out instinctively as Jaal slid into a crouch next to her, his expression strained as he gripped her shoulder.

“We need to get back to the Tempest,” Sara said breathless, Jaal standing in unison with her. The urgency was palpable. More kett would be coming soon, and the Tempest and Paarchero were still at risk.

“I have secured the Meridian coordinates, Sara.” SAM cut into the silence. “The krogan have also been safely rescued and are now aboard the Paarchero.” That was another problem thankfully solved.

“Alright, let’s go. _Now._ ” The command in her voice was lost as Sara stumbled, her leg buckling a bit underneath her as she surged forward. A thread of pain wormed it’s way into her awareness, dull and almost imperceptible in her gut, but it was there.

_“Sara, there is another matter. You are injured.”_

_“No time SAM. Do what you can.”_

There was a near audible hiss as Sara felt the cool, wet sensation of medigel spread underneath her armor. She knew immediately that she’d been shot the second SAM alerted her. She could feel the bullet from the Anointed’s gun lodged in her abdomen and was only dimly aware of the trickling warmth as it slid down her skin beneath her armor. There was simply no time.

_“Sara, the bullet has pierced your small intestine. You require medical attention.”_

_“Keep me alive until we get to the Tempest SAM.”_ There seemed to be a lot of blood that she was only now just noticing pooling between her fingers. That wasn’t good. She didn’t want to say anything to either Jaal or Peebee now, because she needed to keep them focused on getting them out of harm's way.

They rushed back through the ship following the same path as when they’d come in. It took minutes this time, without any full scale ambush to hinder their retreat. Jaal had slid in front to quickly take out any additional kett that stood in their way, shooting them down with expert precision as Peebee took up the rear to pick off anything that slipped behind them. Sara tried to keep pace, firing off a round when she could, but she could feel herself growing sluggish as her own blood soaked under her armor. It was sliding between the cracks of her undersuit and her skin, making its way past her thighs and down her leg. She was clutching her side where the bullet had lodged in a soft spot between armor plates to stem the blood flow, struggling to stay upright as her legs felt like they were getting heavier.

The salarian ark was still at risk, and Sara had feared that the Archon would just shoot it to oblivion, but he didn’t. It still hung quietly in the vacuum of space. He either thought nothing of their escape or was just not willing to part with so many fresh test subjects for exaltation. Neither option really mattered. As they made their way back through the tubes tethering the ark in place Sara finally lost her strength.

_“Sara, your blood pressure is dangerously low.”_

Her vision tunneled as it suddenly became too difficult to stay upright, breath thin and labored as she panted. Her hand felt soaked, and she looked down at it to see the blood now bubbling past her armor where it coated her gloves and pooled between the plates of her fingers. _Oh shit am I bleeding that much?_ The thought was faint, and slightly delirious as she suddenly veered to the left. Her body angled towards the firm, textured surface of the tether. The sensation was strange, like gravity had been pulled from underneath her and she was floating on a surface that was no longer even.

“Whoa—” Peebee saw her stumble and lept forward to catch Sara as she started a slow, wobbling descent backwards. Instinctively Sara had reached forward and grabbed the back of Jaal’s rofjinn to steady herself, not even really comprehending what her hand was on as it slipped through the fabric. The action made him freeze and spin around, and Sara saw the receding image of his confused expression morph into one of horrific understanding as he reached for her falling body. Her dead weight hit the asari’s front but Peebee couldn’t hold her and they crumpled together, just as Jaal’s hands flew forward to catch her, eyes widened past their limits. It was like the whole sequence of actions moved in slow motion, but Sara felt like an observer rather than a participant.

“The ark…” Sara heard herself mumble. Her thoughts were hazy now, and she grew cold. A soft shiver ran through her body as she felt her head roll back against Peebee’s shoulder.

“Set off the EMP, _NOW_ —” Peebee did it for her, understanding her request just as the seriousness of her condition became clear to Jaal as he pressed a shaking hand to her side. The asari said more after that, but there was too much talking happening around her… she was starting to get confused...

“Sara needs medical attention!” Jaal’s voice sought dominance above the rest of the noise and distraction. He sounded frantic, and Sara could faintly feel the fast, tense buzzing of his energy against her as he clasped a large hand around her bleeding side, his other arm scooping her up with ease to press her against him like she weighed nothing at all. Sara only heard the faintest acknowledgment from Lexi on the comm, drowned out by the audible _squelch_ that she could feel just as much as hear from the pressure of Jaal’s hand attempting to stem the bleeding. He was running then, just as she was slipping out of consciousness into a warm comforting darkness. The reverberating _boom_ of the EMP outside was faint and distant to her ears as everything faded to black for a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Sara recovers. Jaal wonders what to do with his feelings and goes to the most obvious place: his mother.


	5. How to Tell Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the Archon's flagship Jaal attempts to sort out his feelings, and goes to his mother for support. Sara continues trying to work through her own questions when Jaal asks her a question she can't say no to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to have the Havarl scene be included in this chapter, but it got too long, so I'll be dedicating the entire next chapter to fleshing that whole thing out and seeing how I can expand on it. 
> 
> For now, some more fluffy feelings are thrown back and forth, and I think both of them are ready to burst at this point.

Jaal wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting in the Tempest medbay, but when Lexi was shaking him awake he knew he must have fallen asleep at some point. That meant, it had to have been a while, whatever time having past nothing more than a creeping blur as his eyes readjusted to the room.

“I think it’s time for you to get some actual rest,” Lexi said. The asari’s voice was soft and full of understanding, even as Jaal mumbled a protest that came out as more of a sleepy rumble in his throat. He blinked heavily at her, feeling the cramp in his neck beginning to settle in from the awkward position his head had fallen on the berth next to Sara’s side.

After rushing Sara’s unconscious body into the medbay once they’d returned to the Tempest, he’d thought that his world was about to crumble for the second time that day. He didn’t know much about human biology, but judging by how much blood he’d felt flowing underneath his hand he wagered that Sara was in a very bad way. Humans couldn’t _possibly_ be meant to lose that much blood, and Sara was already so small…

He’d hovered in the medbay for several minutes in a terrified daze, bioelectrics snapping around him like a nervous energy cloud while Lexi had quickly set to work without hesitation. Peebee had fled to the hall, her expression strained and hidden as she ducked around other crew members who had started to gather as the news spread. Sara was being prepped for emergency surgery when Lexi finally ordered Jaal out of the medbay with a pointed gesture. His anxious presence and zapping energy field were too much of a distraction he would later reason, but at the time he’d been too stunned to properly hear her. He’d lingered just long enough, unwilling to leave, to earn him another angry command from the asari before Vetra had gently pushed him out into the hallway.

He thought, maybe he’d been standing outside the medbay door pacing for what felt like hours. Maybe it had been. He’d only barely heard Kallo’s shaky voice speak over the ship-wide comm that the Paarchero had successfully jumped to FTL enroute to the Nexus. They were currently doing the same—Jaal had been able to feel the tingling charge of the drive core before the _thrum_ of the ship had changed. Normally it bothered him, it made his skin itch to be near the core when FTL was engaged, but right now that meager discomfort paled in comparison to the squeezing pain in his heart.

The rest of the crew had filtered in and out of the hallway as time had passed, waiting for news, but Liam had lingered with him the longest. The human didn’t speak, but the silence was companionship enough—Liam likely knew this, being one of the best on the crew at understanding him—and for that Jaal was grateful.

Eventually, Lexi had emerged from the medbay with news that Sara was going to be fine, and Jaal had to stop himself from rudely pushing past her to get to Sara’s side with a wordless cry. He hadn’t realized he’d been bottling up such a noise, his current stuttering and shaking with relief as he rushed through the door. He didn’t particularly care how it looked to anyone anymore, too desperate from his haggard emotions and a need confirm with his own eyes that she was _alive_. He only distantly heard Lexi say something to Liam about a concussion and blood loss as he cautiously took a seat next to Sara’s berth, first taking a moment to tamp down the wavering, pulsing field that swirled around him as he feared it would somehow disturb her and make everything worse.

So he’d sat, nearly unmoving and carefully restrained as he watched the even rise and fall of Sara’s breathing. At some point his hand had found her own where it lay at her side, just over the thin blanket that covered her. He couldn’t quite fully grasp her fingers with his own, but the simple gesture of wrapping his much larger hand around hers was enough; the _contact_ was enough, and he’d remained that way until he supposed he had fallen asleep. He didn’t remember ever closing his eyes, or even laying his head down, but given that he could not even recall how long he’d been sitting there he wagered that his memory was mostly a fog where recent events were concerned.

“She’ll be out for a little while longer, but she’s fine.” Lexi had followed him into the room after he’d pushed past her, but thankfully had let him be. She’d given him only a soft look of understanding before she sat down at her desk on the opposite end. He wasn’t sure he’d been in any mood for conversation, simply wanting to stand guard over his dearest as if she could be whisked away from him at any moment. He liked the asari well enough, and trusted the doctor implicitly, but for the moment he wanted to be left alone.

Now however, it appeared as if he’d overstayed his welcome, as Lexi was standing over him with a data pad pressed into her chest, her mouth a hard line of concern. “She’ll be out of commission for maybe a week, strict bed rest and monitoring, but she should be up and about in no time. You all got her here just in time.” Jaal thought that Lexi was trying to make him feel better, and it did, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought that it was really _SAM_ who had saved her on the ship.

Jaal exhaled a breath, slowly untangling his hand from her own, frowning at the lack of contact as he sat up straight. His rofjinn suddenly felt far too heavy on his shoulders, and as he looked down to smooth out the wrinkles he finally noticed the darkened splotches of Sara’s blood that had dried in a gruesome pattern across the brilliantly azure fabric.

He was staring at Sara’s blood, on the verge of tears spilling with a sudden assault of anguish at what he’d experienced and nearly _lost_ , when he felt Lexi’s firm hand on his shoulder. Perhaps she had seen the change on his face before he’d even realized it was happening, hoping to stem the tide before the dam broke.

“Jaal. I _mean it_. Sara isn’t going anywhere. You need to eat something and rest, _in that order_.” Jaal could do no more than look up at her, his eyes shifting without focus, but he was clear enough to see her expression and what it told him: she _understood_ , but there was no arguing with her.

“I can keep watch.” Liam’s voice filtered in from the doorway, and Jaal felt a sudden calm settle over him at the human’s offer. Good. His friend— _Sara’s_ friend—will be there for him. That put his spirit at ease enough to convince him that Lexi was right. “We’ll be back at the Nexus soon so go clean yourself up.” He suspected Liam was referring to his rofjinn, the garment that he had told Liam was special, but right now Jaal hardly cared about it. Right now in fact, he wanted to get it _off_ him.

Reluctantly Jaal stood, feeling the joints in his legs cramp at the effort from being folded up for so long on a chair that was not meant to accommodate him. The inkling realization that his bladder was full and stomach empty persuaded him that he should just do what they were asking of him. He unclasped the bloodied draped fabric around his neck as he plodded out of the room, body feeling much heavier than it should have. Liam was frowning as he walked past, placing an understanding hand on Jaal’s shoulder that was meant to be comforting and Jaal warmed a little at the contact.

“Yes. I should...clean this,” Jaal managed as he returned Liam’s gesture, but the rofjinn was bundled up carelessly in his other hand—something unusual for him. He always regarded it with utmost care, but right now it felt almost...meaningless. “Thank you Liam. You are a dear friend.”

“Aaaw,” the human trilled, grinning with a sparkle in his brown eyes—paler than Sara’s. “You’re delirious mate, maybe Lexi should check you out too.” That at least, coaxed a smile out of the angara, however small it may have been. It...helped, to have others who cared about him.

“Liam,” Lexi warned, not bothering to look up from her desk across the room. The human’s brow rose in mock surprise as he hurriedly shoved Jaal out into the hallway. Reluctantly, he let himself be pushed out, taking one last lingering look at Sara before the doors slid shut behind him.

Jaal quickly took care of the more immediate physical needs that weighed him, before he finally felt exhaustion begin to coax him into the direction of the Tech Lab where his bed awaited. Perhaps, a few hours of proper sleep would do him some needed good, but his heart was still heavy with a number of warring emotions and questions. He ached with a need to be at Sara’s side, but he also knew that Lexi would likely physically remove him and lock him in the Tech Lab if he set foot in there again.

So Jaal did the next thing that made perfect sense to him: he sat wearily at the edge of his bed, and began typing a message to his mother on his Omni-tool. It was time to discuss his profound feelings with the woman who gave him breath, and who perhaps knew him better than anyone else in this universe.

_To: Sahuna Ama Darav  
From: Jaal Ama Darav_

_Dearest Mother,_

_I write to you now with a mixture of confusing emotions and I am in need of your guidance and wisdom._

_It has gotten easier to find my place amongst these aliens, and I have found solid friendship and care here. Do not worry, for they are very kind to me, and I treasure the bonds I have formed._

Jaal thought, to get some of the basic formalities out of the way would be best, as he regrettably had neglected to write to his mother in a while. He had spoken to her after first boarding the Tempest and one of the first things she had asked was if they were being kind to him, and thankfully he hadn’t needed to stretch the truth _too much_. They’d always been welcoming, if not a little wary of him in the beginning. Now though, things were different.

He continued.

_There is a new worry that plagues me, one that is so different and perplexing that I am having trouble making sense of things. It is concerning the human Pathfinder, Sara Ryder._

_Mother, I feel an affection and longing for her that I have not felt in a very long time, and I am anxious and afraid of what it all means. I know that you’ve worried for so long about the barriers around my heart, but now I can tell you with joy that they are breaking down around my feet. Sara is the reason for this new light, and while I cannot be certain, I believe that she returns my affections. These aliens however, are not very open about such things, so we have not really discussed it. I sent her a message and told her that I enjoyed her, and she responded positively, but I am still unsure if she understands what I truly mean. Maybe she thinks that all angara are like this._

_Sara was injured today, and I nearly lost her (she is fine). Now, I find that I don’t know how much longer I can keep my feelings to myself. I am afraid I may be misreading her intentions. I am afraid of that rejection again, because I am not sure if my heart can weather another storm._

Jaal paused against his Omni-tool, hands running up the dome of his head with uncertainty. He knew his mother would understand him. There would be no judgment or ridicule from her, or even his family. Of this much, he was certain. The same could not be said of others amongst his people, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he could muster up the will to care anymore.

_The fact that she is alien is not lost on me. However, these aliens from the Milky Way are not the kett. I feel this with great conviction. There are imperfections amongst them, that is clear, but are the angara so free of sin? I would have never imagined that an alien would stir these feelings within me again, but Sara is precious, special, kind and beautiful and I long to be with her._

Jaal thought, perhaps he should ease back on the praise for Sara, but he quickly decided that no, there could not be enough praise to describe her perfection. 

_I do not know how to navigate these feelings again, and I am in need of my true mother’s advice. Mother, what do I do? What do I say? What if my heart breaks beyond repair at the rejection I’m not even sure is to come?_

_Your son,_

_Jaal_

Looking over the message one last time, Jaal felt as satisfied with it as he could under the circumstances and was about to press send when his eyes fell on his rofjinn lying crumpled on the counter next to him. Frowning, he turned back to the message and added one last passage. 

_Addendum: My rofjinn is in need of a proper cleaning, of which I know my true mother is an expert. Next time I am on Havarl, will you do this for me?_

His mother really was better at cleaning it than he was, and he feared the proper cleansing solutions wouldn’t be easily come by on the Nexus so she was really his next best alternative. Even so, he knew she would not hesitate to do this for him. She would likely question the nature of the stains, and he would need to explain them to her, but right now he didn’t even want to think on it further.

Finally, he pressed _Send_ on the message, and while he knew his mother would respond quickly, it was not something that would come immediately. There was no sense in waiting, as she could be busy with Resistance matters, or something at home, so he finally willed himself to lie back on his bed.

Sleep did not come easy. He squirmed, wondering what sort of response he would receive from such an admission, as he realized, his mother was probably not expecting such a message from him at a time like this. His mind then did what it usually did when he was discomforted: it wandered, and it immediately drifted back to Sara. He could still picture her face as he’d turned to see her fall, still feel the tug of her grasping his rofjinn like a phantom pain against his awareness, how pale and ghostly she’d looked as she fell against Peebee like a child’s doll.

Jaal finally allowed himself the private luxury of weeping, silent and alone, as if the fractured outpouring of emotions would soothe him, but it did not ease the pain. Only when his eyes became too heavy and swollen from tears did sleep finally claim him, his erratic current easing enough to lull him into a warm embrace that pulled him into darkened peace.

***

_Bright. It was too BRIGHT._

That was the first thought that trickled into Sara’s awareness when she opened her eyes, the harsh, artificial lighting making the action difficult as she slowly regained consciousness. As her eyes adjusted, the overwhelming white glow of her surroundings held an unfamiliarity that her mind was having a difficult time processing. The sounds of people talking, and of machinery and construction not at all what she would have expected on a kett flagship.

_The kett! Shit!_

Sitting bolt-upright, Sara immediately regretted the action as pain splintered through her abdomen and up her chest. Her hands went instinctively to a gun that wasn’t there, her eyes searching for an enemy that she was certain was bearing down on her, but what she found was the cool, familiar surroundings of a Milky Way medbay.

She wasn’t on the Archon’s ship anymore. The last thing she remembered was the dingy, poorly illuminated darkness of the tether trapping the salarian ark, and debilitating pain and weakness. Then, Jaal lifting her up in his arms, her head lolling back before he’d shifted to press her further into his body and then the vaguest impression of him moving. She remembered nothing else after that, and after her brain took a solid minute to process what was around her, looking outside the window directly to her left she realized with a start that she was on the Nexus.

And she _hurt_ so profoundly in her gut, and she suddenly remembered the bullet that had burrowed into her too.

_“Sara, if I may, Dr. T’Perro was able to successfully remove the bullet from your abdomen and stabilize you before we arrived.”_

Sara had never thought she’d be so thrilled to hear SAM in her head again. _“Thank you for keeping me alive long enough to get to her.”_

_“Of course. You may also want to thank Jaal for running you through Ark Paarchero back to the Tempest. You lost consciousness and would have been unable to make the rest of the journey on your own.”_

That filled in some of the gaps nice enough, although the rest of it she’d been able to piece together on her own. It still bothered her, to lose so much time.

_“I will be receding to stand-by mode in order to preserve functions to better facilitate your recovery. Should anything immediate come to my attention that requires your input, I will alert you immediately.”_

_“Thank you, SAM.”_

Nearly crumpling, Sara fell back onto the bed, exhaling a shaky breath as she calmed her nerves, feeling the press of a heavy bandage and the squelch of medigel against her abdomen with uncertain fingers. So Jaal and Peebee had gotten her back on the Tempest. She’d survived long enough to get to Lexi at least, and they’d returned to the Nexus for the time being.

A blossom of urgency unfurled in Sara’s gut as she suddenly remembered the reason for the tether she’d blacked out in, and she was about to prompt SAM until another voice was in the room.

“Ryder?” Cora entered Sara’s field of vision on her right, the woman’s face swimming into focus as Sara turned. She managed at least, to prop herself on her elbows so that she could look at her second-in-command properly but the action made her head swim.

“The salarian ark?” That was the first thing Sara managed verbally, and Cora’s immediate expression put her at ease.

“Fine. It's here at the Nexus now where it belongs.” The woman offered her a small smile, hands clasped behind her back. “Kallo has been itching to thank you personally. You did good back there.” Still so formal, as if it was ingrained into her very being. Even though things had smoothed out considerably between them since they had liberated the asari ark together, Cora still managed to exude an air of poise and control.

“ _We_ did good. _I_ got shot and nearly died again—I _did_ die.” Sara groused, laying back to prop herself against the wall at her back. The action caused a shock of pain across her gut, but it eased as soon as she got comfortable. Cora came towards her as if to help her, but she must have thought better of it as she let her arms fall to her side. There was no hint of judgment or ridicule in her eyes—a far cry different from when Sara first unwillingly became Pathfinder, a position that rightfully was supposed to be Cora’s.

That had been a sore spot between them for a while. Sara’s inexperience in comparison to the former asari Huntress hadn’t exactly helped matters. But lately, Cora had become a grounding presence for Sara, and they’d found that they’d had plenty of reasons to be friends, more so than they would have initially believed. They’d spent many an evening sharing stories from their vastly different experiences in the Milky Way: Cora, a biotic who had been stationed with a cross-species outfit of asari commandos, and Sara, an accomplished Prothean researcher and tech enthusiast who’d somehow found herself in a position that she _still_ felt was over her head. That’s what she would often remind herself anyway.

“Lexi had some pretty…. strong things to say about what SAM did. I never knew SAM could do something like that to the Pathfinder...” Cora said, and her face looked tired then and she may have looked even a little bit frightened. Sara wondered if Cora had taken the full brunt of their doctor’s anger at the revelation that the AI in Sara’s head to kill her on command. “Tann wasn’t too pleased either when I submitted my report.”

“I bet he wasn’t…” Sara muttered, a flair of alarm inching it’s way along her senses. “How long was I out?” If she had been out for too long there was no telling what had happened...

“Not more than a day. Lexi stabilized you on the Tempest and we immediately came here where the doctor’s gave you the final all-clear.” Cora said, her expression morphing into one of concern as Sara started to shift her body out of the bed, legs swinging off the side without touching the floor. She was wearing standard Initiative issue sweatpants and a simple t-shirt that was a few sizes too big for her. It made her wonder just who in the hell had thought she’d fit the size they’d chosen, although she rather liked the fact that she was swimming in it. She didn’t exactly want fabric rubbing against her bandages anyway.

“We’ve got work to do,” Sara said through gritted teeth, protesting but Cora shook her head. The other woman was on her in an instant, hands firmly on Sara’s shoulders to press her back down.

“You’re going to be down for a week at most. You lost a lot of blood.” 

Reluctantly Sara let Cora push her back against the bed, not having the continued energy and strength to fight back regardless. The action had made her dizzy. “We have Meridian. We’re this close.”

“The kett haven’t figured it out in how many years? I’m pretty sure it can wait another week,” Cora said, although the sentiment was half-honest at best. This was too important a task to leave to chance, but if she was down then that meant the other Pathfinders…

“I need to speak to Raeka and Sarissa.” Sara saw Cora wince slightly at the mention of the asari Pathfinder’s name, but she didn’t comment. “We can at least plan…”

Cora was frowning again, and Sara knew the woman enough to recognize that it was a bad sign.

“The Initiative leadership was not overly enthusiastic about Meridian. They think it’s a longshot. Too dangerous with the huge kett presence that’s already there.”

“If we don’t do something, we risk the Archon destroying this whole cluster. We can kiss the Initiative, and the angara goodbye then.” 

“Let _me_ talk to Raeka and Sarissa. I think… they might have a plan.” The response had an underlying question, that being if Sara trusted Cora enough to act as her liaison in this matter. Sara nodded, imparting her agreement as she realized she was feeling far too weak to do much of anything anyway. She could relinquish control to Cora. She _had_ to.

“Focus on recovering. Let the other Pathfinders pick up some of the slack now.” Cora's smile turned warm then, eyes crinkling in a knowing smile. “Jaal hasn’t really left your side since he brought you back. He looked really scared when he gave you to Lexi. Vetra had to physically remove him from the medbay.”

Sara laughed a little, the action causing a flicker of pain that made her wince. She couldn’t help but smile then, feeling a warmth flush her cheeks that she hoped wasn’t a fever. It wasn’t _funny_ , not by a long-shot, but it was more of a nervous gesture than anything else.

“He’s angara. When they feel, they _really_ feel,” Sara said, brushing away the rather obvious meaning Cora was trying to impart. She wasn’t particularly sure why she was avoiding the topic now.

“No, I don’t think that’s why. We’ve had to force him to leave your side so he could take care of _himself_.” Cora finally said, but her smile turned then, looking hesitant. “I think… I might have heard him crying when I walked past the Tech Lab that night. That’s a little bit more than just standard angara sympathy, wouldn’t you agree?”

 _Oh no_ … Sara suddenly felt terrible, frowning to herself as she looked down at her hands. As sweet as it was for him to be so overcome with concern...it was so _not_ amusing to know that her distress so deeply affected him, and that he had kept it to himself. Again, that could not have been easy, and it hurt her just as profoundly to know that he’d suffered alone. She should have been there for him...

“Boy has it bad for you,” Cora said quietly, but that wasn’t particularly pleasing to hear under the circumstances, and yet—

“Yeah, I think I’ve got it pretty bad too…” Sara croaked, the admission coming out of her with a start. Dying, nearly twice in one day tended to make one rethink the direction they were taking, and she didn’t know if she could leave things unspoken between them anymore. Just what the hell was she supposed to do now?

Well the answer to _that_ was obvious. Confess. See what he said. Sara just wasn’t sure if she had to courage to do it. She’d faced down kett, exile raiders, Roekaar, even the fucking Archon himself, but _this_ was not something that came easy to her: confessing her affection for an alien from an entirely different galaxy, that she’d only met because the right set of circumstances had come into play; It was almost fated, how many dominos had needed to fall _just right_ for them to cross paths. How exactly was someone supposed to get their head around _that_?

Sara’s thoughts were still racing by the time Cora turned around to the sound of the door sliding open, and lo and behold, the exact person she was thinking about walked into the room. All of Sara’s internal misgivings vanished as soon as she laid eyes on him, and it was like seeing him for the first time again. This time however, she wasn’t wary (if not a little curious too) she was completely _enamored_.

“Sara!” Jaal’s eyes widened just slightly when he saw her, the blue sparkling so intensely she could have sworn that his eyes were glowing. He paused between Cora and the door, perhaps thinking he’d interrupted something. “You are—”

“I’ll leave her to you then,” Cora said, quickly moving past him to retreat to the door. “I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve got something on Meridian.” She nodded at Sara before leaving, her demeanor slipping back into the professional poise that she was so good at, before leaving the two of them alone.

Jaal’s eyes hadn’t left her since he’d walked in, slightly wide and very, very alert and Sara wriggled a bit under the intense focus of his gaze. She wasn’t sure what to say, what she even _could_ say, after everything that had happened, and the way he was looking at her was so raw and powerful that she found words escaping her.

There were things that she _wanted_ to tell him, things she wanted to ask him, so desperately, but she didn’t have the courage to do it now. At least not while she was still lying in a hospital bed healing from a gunshot wound. _If_ he rejected her, it would probably literally kill her right now. So Sara did what she typically felt was appropriate when she didn’t know what to say, and that was to employ sarcasm.

“I look that terrible, huh?”

“Ah, no…” Jaal said, blinking as he quickly closed the distance between them like someone who was greatly in a hurry but was trying to hide it. He set a small bundle down on the table next to her that she only just realized he’d been holding. “I didn’t realize you were awake,” he said quietly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed at her side and returning his gaze to her. She felt his weight settle against the mattress, making it dip towards him and had Sara been in better condition she would have let it carry her with it if only to have the excuse to fall against him.

She did manage to sit up a bit straighter to be closer to eye-level with him. “You were just staring and I didn’t know if—” Jaal’s hands were on her then, cradling her head at either side of her face, and it was an action she recognized as he pressed his forehead against hers with a soft sigh. She could smell the soft, sweetly musky scent of his lotions and it made her breath catch a little in her throat. His touch was gentle and cautious, like he thought she would break if he touched her.

Sara felt a wave of energy travel over her, barely perceptible, but it was there: a soft wobble of Jaal’s current, but it felt calm and even, almost like a purr that she felt as much as heard from deep within his chest. She melted into it, returning his gesture as she touched his cheeks—bare skin under her palms without the bandage from his gunshot wound, and he was warm and slightly trembling under her touch. It was so sweet and real, that Sara could have remained there forever, eyes locked onto his as she tumbled into their icy depths, but Jaal eventually pulled away first.

“I guess we’re even then,” Sara mumbled with a tired smile. Jaal straightened, his brow lifting in noticeable confusion at what she could possibly mean and she realized he might not have understood the phrase. “We’ve both done something amazingly stupid,” she clarified. It _was_ stupid really. It hadn't been a contest to see who could be the most reckless in putting themselves in danger.

“ _Sara_ ,” Jaal chided, frowning. “I would prefer that neither of us tempt death again if we can avoid it.” His eyes were searching her face, his pupils doing that fascinating size-shifting that she had started to notice some time ago when he looked at her. She could have watched his eyes do that forever, especially if it meant what she thought it meant. It was probably because they were so obvious against his big, wide blue irises that she found it so fascinating. Or, because it was just _him_ she found intriguing.

“That’s probably a good idea.” Sara said, following Jaal’s movements as he stood to transfer himself to the chair next to the bed. It was rather large, probably to accommodate a turian or a krogan, but it would work just as well for an angara so its placement there was probably not a coincidence. She couldn’t help but notice that Jaal filled the chair pretty thoroughly.

Immediately, his hand found hers, and she offered it willingly, surprised to finally notice that he was not wearing his gloves. Only bare skin touched her own, and his hands were amazingly soft and well manicured. Although she shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d seen all the lotions and oils that he’d brought on board that now littered the surfaces of the tech lab. The man clearly took care of his skin, and Sara couldn’t help but feel slightly inferior to that for a tick. It wasn’t that she didn’t _try_ , but damn the effort he went through was probably more time consuming than she was prepared to entertain on any given day.

Noticing further, Jaal wasn’t wearing anything that he typically wore. His rofjinn was gone—she did remember pulling it when she’d fallen over. She hoped she hadn’t ruined it—and he wasn’t wearing his normal armor and fitted bodysuit underneath. So he _had_ other angara clothes, she’d just never seen him wear any of it. It certainly wasn’t Initiative issue, as nothing they had would likely fit him properly. Although she supposed he could get away with something in a much larger size, but _this_ was clearly tailored for an angara’s body structure: wide at the neck without looking stretched, soft and slightly padded in the chest and arms to fill out the shape of their anatomy, and tapered in at his much narrower waist. She wasn’t about to stare at his lower half now but she imagined what he was wearing was similar to what she’d seen other angaran men wear.

It looked nice on him, the darker gray color a good contrast against the more fuscia color of his skin. It looked _normal_. Sara needed normal right now.

“Are you in any pain?” Jaal finally asked, his thumb tracing idle circles on her hand. Sara managed to settle against the pillows with a sigh, happy to let him continue with what he was doing.

“Only if I move too fast, otherwise no.” She said, watching as his head tilted just slightly to the side and forward. It was a movement she had come to associate as affectionate, as she’d seen Jaal do it on a number of occasions when he’d been speaking to her more intimately.

“That is good. I am glad for Lexi’s talent.”

“It’ll heal fast, modern medicine and all that…” Sara paused. “So I guess consider this as good a reason as any for some shore leave.” There wasn’t really much that could be done on her end while she was healing, and Cora would be working with the other Pathfinders to secure their plan for Meridian. She could send the Tempest and the rest of her team out to the outposts in the meantime to do what they could to help out in those areas. She still needed to deal with the krogan colony on Eladaan so she could send the others in her stead. Vetra’s sister might have to wait until she was in fighting shape again. None of that was particularly shore leave type activities, but she’d do some thinking on that in a little bit. So, she supposed, that meant she had some time on her hands.

Sara couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather spend it with.

That admission made her heart flutter.

Although she didn’t doubt that if she sent Jaal away on a mission he would go without question, even if he didn’t want to. Selfishly, she’d rather have him to herself now, so that thought was abandoned. If he _wanted_ to go somewhere though she certainly wouldn’t keep him.

“If we are to be on shore leave then, I have a question to ask you,” Jaal said, and for a moment she thought he was going to do what she had just been thinking and ask for her permission to leave. She steeled herself while he brought both hands against her own, cupping it between his palms.

“Yeah?”

“Once you are well enough on your feet, I wondered if you would accompany me to Havarl?” He stilled then, perhaps fearing the possibility of rejection as his eyes searched over her face for a reaction. Sara was more curious as to the _why_ …

“Havarl? Really?” Sara blinked, the thought not lost on her that he was asking _just her_ to accompany him to his home planet, but there had to be more to it.

“My family is on Havarl, and my mother is very interested in meeting you.” Jaal said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and to him, she supposed that it was. Family was of course everything to angara, but to Sara family had been something she’d typically avoided bringing people home to at all costs. Between her brother being a constant embarrassment, her mother usually out of the house doing very important research, and her father being… well, Alec Ryder she tended to not jump to showing them off to people if she could avoid it.

If it was his family, he couldn’t possibly have intentions other than something that was perfectly normal for angara: sharing their familial bonds with people they considered important to them. To her though, it was an intimate thing, something that Sara thought people typically reserved for those that they were dating—bring a boy or girl home to meet the parents and all that, but she doubted angara were that reserved about it. They probably showed their families off to anyone who cared, so she had no reason to assume this would be different. It couldn’t possibly hold any romantic overtures that she was misinterpreting...

Unless this _was_ part of angara dating and she just wasn’t aware of it.

Sara was insanely curious now, and found that there was no way she could say no. At the very least, she’d get to see an angara family in their own environment, to watch how they interact and behave with each other. It would be fascinating. Not to mention, getting to spend a little more time on Havarl would be more than the right kind of relaxation she needed to get back on her feet.

Although the prospect of meeting Jaal’s mother was more than a little daunting, especially if she had a particular interest in meeting the human her son was traveling with. That had to mean that Jaal was talking about her. The thought made her feel just a little bit giddy as she wondered what he could possibly have said that would have made the anagaran woman curious.

Sara really, _really_ hoped she wasn’t reading more into this than she should have been.

“Of course, I’d love to!” Sara smiled, and Jaal beamed, looking inordinately pleased. Sara thought, she’d never seen his smile so bright, and right now it was meant just for her. That would be enough.

“Wonderful! I will arrange passage on an angaran ambassador’s shuttle scheduled for Havarl at the end of the week.”

“Are you sure they’ll be okay with that?” She certainly didn’t want to be a bother.

“They will be, for the human Pathfinder and Evfra de Tershaav’s first lieutenant.” Jaal smirked then, his expression devious as he leaned forward. “I am very persuasive.”

“Ooooh, look at you,” Sara teased, wondering if she should feel more reserved about Jaal throwing his own weight around to get favors. What could this one little thing hurt, really? “If the rest of the team wants to take the Tempest out, I guess that means they can.” A thought came to her then. “You already knew there was a shuttle leaving?”

“I may have already asked,” Jaal frowned then. “I’d had my hopes you would accompany me if you were feeling strong enough, but regardless, I don’t think I could have fended off my mother any longer and would have likely needed to go myself if you would not join me.”

“I don’t want to impose Jaal. It’s your family, and I don’t want to distract you if you want to spend time with them.”

“Dearest, no, I was hoping you would come.” Sara thought she caught Jaal’s face flushing then, but she couldn’t be too sure. She felt her own face start to get warm, his term of endearment making her heart flutter as he locked eyes with her. It was too much, with still too many questions, so Sara averted her eyes to the bundle he’d walked in with that had been left forgotten on the table.

“What’s that?” Sara asked, pointing with the hand that was not still caged within Jaal’s grasp. He turned then, sitting straighter as he finally released her hand to pull the bundle from the table and set it before her.

“Drack made these for you. I believe he called them _muffins_.” The way Jaal pronounced the word was drawn out and uncertain, adding a few more vowels in there than was necessary. More extraordinary though was the fact that there were muffins sitting on her lap, in Andromeda, made just for her. She tore the bundle open, and she could have easily cried at the sight of the four, slightly lopsided, but delicious looking pastries within the fabric.

“Wow.” Was all Sara managed. She didn’t know what to say. She’d have to thank Drack later, for being so thoughtful.

“Are these satisfactory? I tried to help, but I’m afraid I’m not familiar with using your own ingredients…” Sara couldn’t help but stare dumbstruck at Jaal then, who looked flustered at his own clumsy attempts to explain his inadequacy. Sara could picture it now, the old krogan standing in the mess trying to explain to Jaal how much of each weird ingredient went where and at what time just so they could bake some damn muffins for her. She almost feared the disaster they’d left behind, as her own attempts at baking had been somewhere between catastrophic and _burn the place down_.

But oh, how sweet it also was, these two mighty bulwarks of warrior standing over a counter top and stove discussing how to make something that they knew she would enjoy just to make her feel better. And she _knew_ it had to have been Jaal that suggested it, because she’d only talked about muffins to him in passing when they’d been eating breakfast alone one morning: how she’d wished they’d had some because she’d missed them. Jaal had remembered.

Sara thought, she really could cry then. Jaal was still trying to make excuses for his “poor attempt” but Sara didn’t care. They could have tasted terrible and it wouldn't have mattered, because their effort was more than enough.

“I am not sure about the taste, so if you don't—”

“Jaal, _listen_.” Sara faced him and pressed both hands against his cheeks, pulling him forward. He stilled, going quiet. “ _Thank you_. This was very sweet of you. You were thinking of me, and I appreciate that.” She smiled then. Jaal made a soft noise in his throat that sounded like acknowledgment, though Sara could not help but miss the fact that his eyes darted across her face, lingering on her smile the longest.

When he looked at her again there were stars in his eyes, and maybe the hint of a promise—reserved for Havarl, Sara could only hope and wonder—as a soft tremor of energy swelled across her hands and ghosted up her arms like tiny little fingers tracing her skin lovingly. He was talking to her, in a language she didn’t know she could ever understand, but she wanted to.

Jaal finally opened his mouth then, his hands resting against hers.

“I haven’t stopped thinking of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: I will finally be getting to the scene on Havarl, where all of their questions and worries will finally be answered.


	6. In Havarl's Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaal brings Sara to meet his family, and on their first evening there he finally finds the strength to share his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've very heavily expanded on the time in Havarl and made some adjustments to flesh it out a bit. 
> 
> This chapter is heavy on the fluff, and long, so have a snack ready.

It was several days before Sara was finally on her feet again and itching to get out of her hospital room. Her wound was healed to the point that she was no longer in danger of popping any stitches, and there was only a lingering soreness that was easily remedied with medications. She took it slow at first, venturing out into the halls of the medical ward and cafeteria, and by the third day she was able to make it all the way out to the courtyard that connected to the rest of the Nexus station. She still wasn’t able to move too fast without her head swimming, but she was never in any danger of falling, given that Jaal was nearly always by her side.

He was inordinately patient with her, meeting her slightly slower pace with no complaint as his hands always hovered just shy of her body like he anticipated her falling at any moment. It was sweet, how much he doted on her in those few days, but it never became smothering. Sara didn’t know how Jaal did it, but he seemed to be very good at reading when she needed to be alone and provided it. 

Which didn’t necessarily happen often. Sara genuinely enjoyed his presence as it had given them more of an opportunity than they’d ever really had to just _talk_. They were able to share things about each other that had simply never come up in conversation before. Their differing cultural backgrounds had been of particular interest to Sara, although she noted with a pang of sadness that the angara didn’t seem to have a lot of preserved history compared to anything in the Milky Way. Even humans seemed ancient compared to what Jaal was able to tell her, and frankly that seemed tragic.

When the topic eventually drifted to Sara’s time working on Prothean dig sites and artifacts, Jaal had taken a particular interest in her stories about their tech, especially what she was able to share about humanity’s first discovery on Mars. He’d peppered her with a blistering amount of questions about the first Mass Relay, how humans had been able to adapt to the Prothean technology so quickly, how it all worked to allow them mobility throughout the entire galaxy, and the subsequent First Contact War with the turians. A lot of the deeper tech and how it worked was lost on Sara, but she’d answered what she could. He’d traded his own stories, meager as they were, about his brief time studying Remnant with the Moshae.

Eventually, the topic of family was brought up, a thing which would have been inescapable in present company. She thought, that Jaal had more interesting things to say on that front, but he’d been far more curious about Sara’s.

So, they’d discussed her family. Sara relived the moments her father had died, the man she barely knew, telling Jaal details about what had happened on Habitat 7 that she hadn’t actually shared with anyone else—SAM knew, but he had lived those final moments with Alec Ryder. She told him about Scott, growing up with a twin that was still lying in a coma on the Hyperion, how she’d lied to him about their father’s death when SAM had allowed them to speak through their implants, and how it killed her to this very day. Sara told him about her mother, long dead in the Milky Way from a disease they couldn’t cure, and how she feared that she was starting to forget her face with only old pictures left to remind her. That was it, and there was nothing much else to tell. Jaal had listened to everything with rapt attention, his hands on her own, and she couldn’t tell if what she saw in his eyes was pity. It was strange to him, Sara having such a fractured, broken family, with only one single brother left in the whole universe.

On the final day on the Nexus before Sara was to go to Havarl with Jaal, she sat in the Hyperion Medbay-A next to Scott’s hospital bed and cried.

That was one of those moments where Jaal left Sara alone, although she wagered that he probably hadn't wanted to if the rough, anxious look on her face had clued him in on anything. She’d assured him that a very large, six foot tall angara wandering around Hyperion cryo would not have been ideal; There would be very confused, disoriented humans waking up from their long sleep, so presenting them with an alien they had never seen before without any proper introductions would have done more harm than good. He’d actually agreed to that sentiment, and had set off to make final preparations for their departure, but not without leaving her a lingering look of concern.

So now Sara sat next to her brother, who was a silent, sleeping shell of the Scott she knew, wondering when he was going to finally be at her side. Harry assured her that he was still doing well, and would probably wake up soon of his own accord but Sara’s growing anxiety as each day slipped by outweighed the doctor’s sentiments. Her heart was riddled with guilt from lying to him, from embarking on this impossible, dangerous journey without him experiencing it with her. She needed her brother now, to tell him about everything she’d done and seen, and what she’d accomplished in so little time.

She wanted to tell him about the Remnant, Prodromos and Taerve Uni and what she’d managed on Havarl. And gods above he was going to have a field day when she told him about first contact with the angara and how she’d made a fool of herself but somehow had _not_ gotten them all killed by blundering into the biggest galactic insult imaginable. He would tease her endlessly about the first time she’d seen Jaal, how she’d watched him with equal parts fear and curiosity as he’d stalked down the steps on Aya towards her like a predator, his own eyes awash with demand. How that same wall of apprehension and mistrust was now one of her most precious friends...

And then there was the kett. The Archon’s final words before they’d been ambushed in his chambers rang clear in her head as clearly as when he’d uttered them.

_“And there is another.”_

At least Scott was safe here now, and that was all that mattered. Sara would gladly let the Archon have her if it meant her brother was spared, but she just had to hope it wouldn't come to that.

Squeezing his hand, Sara stood on shaky legs and wiped away the remnants of her anguish from her cheeks. For now, there was nothing more she could do. Havarl would give her a chance to regroup and just _think_ for a little while. Grabbing her bag, she turned to leave, nodding to Harry as she left the medbay.

On the tram back to the Nexus, she fired off messages to her team to give them the opportunity to take these last few days to themselves. Drack had almost immediately pinged back letting her know he was going to Eladaan, and Cora assured her that she and the other Pathfinders had something, but they still needed a few more days with the science team to work out the kinks. Liam’s message had been obnoxiously dripping with innuendo, as he’d been more thrilled to see her leave with Jaal than he legally should have been allowed to. Sara smiled to herself, warming from the inside out, and it helped to ease her emotions and organize her face into something passing normal by the time she’d met Jaal at the docking bay.

Instantly Sara felt at ease, and as she’d followed him onto the shuttle that would take them to Havarl it was the first time in awhile that she had something to look forward to.

*** 

Jaal had been fraught with nerves the entire shuttle ride to Havarl, wondering anxiously about a number of things while being unable to focus on any single one of them long enough to sort through his thoughts. The glow of the planet’s luminescence outside the shuttle bathed him and Sara in a calming light as the orb slipped ever closer, but it was harder than ever to appreciate its beauty when he was so concerned with how the next few days were going to progress.

He knew that Sara had been upset when she met him at the docking bay, but she’d done her best to assure him that there was nothing to be worried about. The only thing she’d really said to him was that seeing her brother was hard, and while he wanted to be there for her at her brother’s side, he was well aware of the delicate environment he would find himself in. Jaal was willing to give her that space as long as she needed it, and he knew it would not do well to press her to share what she was feeling. He’d learned very quickly that tended to have the opposite effect on humans.

Very early on after Jaal had first arrived on the Tempest, he’d said something that, unexpectedly at the time, had offended Sara. He couldn’t remember his exact words (choosing to forget, really) but it had been something about the Initiative outpost on Eos and how he’d found it unpleasant. Although, he was sure _unpleasant_ weren’t the exact words he’d used. The planet itself was not a place angara would normally seek out, and the Initiative settlement had lacked the warmth and community that one would normally take comfort in.

Sara had angrily walked away, red in the face and practically exuding negative energy of her own, but stupidly Jaal followed her all the way back to her quarters to ask her what was so strange about what he’d said. Angara had no qualms about expressing their thoughts, so why was this any different? He was curious.

That had been a mistake. As soon as Sara realized he’d followed her she’d rounded on him with a hiss, demanding that he leave. He’d asked her why she was angry, and had been confused to get an “it’s nothing, go away” in response (Surely it wasn’t nothing. There was clearly something wrong) and when he’d asked her again, he’d thought she was going to hurl something at his face.

Calmly, he’d asked a third time, “Why are you angry?”

The haggard yell he’d gotten back was a shocking, “GET THE FUCK OUT.” Sara had jabbed a finger in the direction of her door, pointing, emphasizing what she wanted him to do, but Jaal had thought it a good time to explain to her that this whole thing was very unnatural to him.

“Angara are not—”

“I don’t care. Get out.” Her voice had been carefully restrained then. He thought he’d seen tears in her eyes, which had made him pause, just long enough to make things worse. “Fine. I’ll get out. OF MY OWN ROOM.” She’d practically bellowed it over her shoulder as she brushed past him, down the hallway to the cargo hold, leaving Jaal standing alone in her quarters wondering what in the stars above he’d gotten himself into.

Vetra, of all souls, had jumped out of the crew quarters to see Sara rush past, and when she saw him standing stupidly in the Pathfinder’s room she’d hauled his foolish ass out so quickly and into the mess hall that he’d nearly gotten whiplash.

“Hey, word of advice. Humans generally don’t respond well to pestering, _especially_ if you follow them. They share when they’re ready.” Her mandibles had clicked in a slow, pitying way, before she’d added. “Also, don’t be an ass. Prodromos is kind of a big deal.”

Vetra’s advice then had been extraordinarily useful, and it was a tool he’d employed often when first navigating his way around these Milky Way aliens.

Thankfully, Sara had forgiven him easily enough. He’d asked for her input when wanting to make gifts for the crew, and she’d apparently been so touched by the gesture that she’d forgotten about the previous upset. It had probably helped that he apologized too, offering to her during the same discussion his own meager tribute in the form of a perfume he’d concocted of the various oils he’d brought with him on the ship. She’d been surprised by his effort but quick to show her gratitude for his accurate guess as to what she’d like, and every time he’d catch a whiff of the scent when passing her, his heart had fluttered a little bit more than usual. He thought, that his feelings for her had already begun to shift before that, but this turning point had only solidified what he hadn't quite admitted to his own heart yet. Their entire dynamic had changed, the infrequent, tense missteps between them becoming even more scarce, and Jaal was more than grateful for the change. 

Now, extraordinarily, as the shuttle entered Havarl’s atmosphere Sara dozed on his shoulder, having slid sideways against him at some point outside of her own control. He found it too precious to move her, but had been careful to keep his hands to himself. There was no sense in being presumptuous enough to slide an arm around her to hold her. At least, _not yet_ , if all went well.

Although Sara’s comfort was only one of the many worries he had, despite her assurances. He was still concerned as to how she’d react to meeting his family, knowing that her own experiences had been different. Clearly, she loved her brother—just _one_ brother, that was so odd—but the fact that he was not at her side was clearly painful for her. When she’d discussed her mother and father, she’d spoken with a restrained affection that was hard for Jaal to understand. He could not imagine lacking that sort of closeness with a true mother and father as Sara seemed to have suffered. Perhaps, they had not really shown her the love she deserved as their child? Jaal wanted to banish such a thought, as strange and distasteful as it was to even think on. Yet, would his family overwhelm her? Would she welcome the affection they would surely shower upon her?

He knew that his mother was going to be a force of such affections. He knew as much from the emails she had sent him in response to his own confessions that she was eager to meet Sara with an enthusiasm that the human was possibly not expecting.

As Jaal walked with Sara at his side up to the entryway of his family’s resident compound, he thought back to the words his mother had imparted to strengthen him.

When he’d woken up after first sending Sahuna his message, her initial response had been brief and to the point. She had only asked: _Send me the message you sent her, and then we will see._ So he’d done so, apprehensively, as he suspected she was going to critique him.

And critique she did. _Strongly._

_You foolish, foolish boy. I did not raise you to speak in such vague intimations. If you love her, then you must tell her! If you waste away in fear of rejection for the rest of your life, then that will be a life lived with many questions unanswered._

_Where she has come from, does not matter. The heart decides for us who it longs for, and if this is something you feel with the intensity as your words suggest, then the only thing you can do is make your intentions known. Your heart will give you the courage to find those words, and when you look into her eyes and speak of your love that is where you will find strength._

_I should like to meet her in person. If your feelings for her are strong, then I will love her with equal measure as if she were my own. I have seen enough from the vids that come through the Resistance to know that she is a woman of great character. You should also know, that many in the Resistance are beginning to show interest in a more personal and sometimes salacious nature as well, so it would serve you to speak now, or risk never knowing._

The rest of her message had been chastising him for not coming home in some time, and since his mother had expressed interest in meeting Sara in person, it had seemed prudent to _kill two birds with one stone_ as the humans liked to say.

Such an unusual expression. What were birds, and why did one want to kill them? The meaning, as had been explained to him, fit regardless.

He would bring her to Havarl, to his home where there was nothing but love, and he would find a private moment with her to look into her eyes and find the strength to tell her that he wanted to be with her.

So, he’d replied back to his mother saying that he would see if Sara wanted to accompany him when he came home, and his mother had immediately asked what she could do to accommodate their guest. Jaal’s first warning once Sara had agreed to come with him, had been to plead with Sahuna to not allow the family to swarm her immediately. Sara was still recovering and she did not have the same expectations as an angaran guest might.

_I will keep the family away for as long as needed, but they will be curious to meet the woman that you care for. The other mothers will be eager to ask her questions and see her with their own eyes, but they will listen to me above all else._

_Lathoul is in Pelaav. I will ask him to seek out the human researchers there and trade for any comforts they are willing to part with. Is there anything in particular that would make her more comfortable? What foods should I have prepared for her? Is she able to ingest angara foods?_

Jaal answered as best he could based on what he knew of Sara’s preferences, thanking his mother for her thoughtfulness. He hoped above all else that it would help ease Sara into the realities of an angaran home, as eventually he knew no warning from Sahuna would keep his family away for long.

He could already sense Sara’s unease next to him as they reached the door to the Ama Darav residence, and he couldn’t deny that he shared a bit of it as the door slid open in response to the biometric release. She followed him through the threshold, and already he could hear a chorus of angaran voices further inside, but above it all he heard the sound of his true mother as she nearly flew into his arms.

“Jaal! Jaal, you are here!” Sahuna embraced him fully, burying her face into his chest as he pulled his mother in for a long-delayed hug. Only now, did he realized how much he had missed her as he felt her sigh with content. Their currents swelled and mingled, saying as much as feeling their love as she finally unwrapped herself from him. “How long it has been!” She chided, but her words lacked any real bite.

Sara was standing slightly behind him, and when Jaal turned to her he could see the uncertainty on her face as Sahuna finally took notice of the human standing in their foyer like she was lost.

“Ah, mother, this is Sara Ryder. She is the human Pathfinder I have told you about.” It would do better to stay formal for now. His mother would know the words he did not speak. Sure enough, he saw her eyes study Sara for a moment, a sparkle there as her current grew to one of intense curiosity. “This is my true mother, Sahuna Ama Darav.” 

Inexplicably, Sara did something he would have never expected. Striding forward with what might have been feigned confidence, she walked straight to his mother and hugged her.

Sahuna returned the embrace earnestly—the look Jaal saw on her face was fond and precious—and she sent him a gentle flutter of pride and approval over their connection that made his chest warm. So far, things were going well.

“I know angara like the hugging…” Sara said, her voice laced with new hesitation as she pulled away, perhaps thinking that she’d needed to explain her actions. Her eyes looked between him and his mother nervously, and he couldn’t help but wonder why present company caused her such distress. Jaal had seen her stand with confidence and authority between himself and Evfra, throwing her own reprisals back at the Resistance leader without any trace of fear. Even his own mother was taller than her—he stood larger than the both of them—but the smile Sahuna was offering her was anything but intimidating.

“I can see why Jaal admires you,” she said, though Jaal had to quickly shoot her a stuttering flick of warning across their connection, thinking his mother was about to blurt out everything he had shared with her. He wasn’t prepared—had no idea what to say to Sara yet, and they had only _just_ walked in.

It appeared to have the opposite effect as he may have thought, as Sara gave him a funny look, visibly relaxing.

“Oh yeah?” Sara trilled, her smile coy, and Jaal suddenly felt like _he_ was the one being ambushed and put in a situation he wasn’t ready to cope with. He could feel his face warming. “Well he’s pretty great too.” Sahuna’s current prodded him immediately at those words, pleased and encouraging despite the friendly, eased expression she wore.

“He _is_ my favorite child after all.” Jaal had to look away when Sahuna pressed a hand to his breast as if to emphasis the point, her touch warming him with motherly affection. He was embarrassed, _very_ embarrassed, although he probably should have seen this coming. “He is so brave and handsome, a good shot in the Resistance and well respected—”

“Oh _absolutely_!” They were both teasing him now. Jaal rumbled a verbal warning that his mother conveniently ignored. He wondered though, which compliment Sara was agreeing with, and he flushed several degrees hotter. 

“Did you know that he also cooks, writes poetry, sews, and—”

“ _Mother_ ,” Jaal finally admonished. He knew his cheeks must have been several shades of blue at having to endure the pair of them singing his praises.

Served him right, maybe.

Sahuna’s current wobbled, nudging against his scoldingly, but the private bioelectric exchange between them was completely unknown to Sara as she looked at him again fondly.

“I didn’t know you could also sew…” Sara said, sounding impressed. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Plenty,” Jaal groused.

“Nonsense, my little _paripo_ has always been too modest—”

The _look_ Sara gave him was insanely bright and amused, her eyes going wide with a mischievous smile as her head snapped in his direction. He realized why with a start, his mother seeing fit to embarrass him further by using a name for him that he _hated_ with every fiber of his being—one that he had not been called since he was a misbehaving teenager. Why was she torturing him so, after everything he’d shared with her about how important this was?

Perhaps worse, Sara knew of the effect it had on him, as he suspected she was trying to hold back a snort of laughter. His expression must have given it away, because Sara could not have possibly detected the erratic pulse of his current as he’d pressed his mother to _please_ stop talking... 

“Paripo, huh? Isn’t that an angara fruit?”

“Oh, you don’t know this? Of course you wouldn’t—” Sahuna began shuffling them out of the entryway and through the hall that would lead to the solarium. “I will tell you, that when my Jaal was just a little baby—” She placed a strong arm around Sara’s shoulder to guide her through the brightly lit hallway, and while Sara tensed for a moment she quickly relaxed as his mother continued speaking. Sara was watching Sahuna with what he suspected was fascination, now very much at ease, and Jaal watched them miserably as he trailed behind them. “He took much longer than other angaran children learning to walk, so he would roll and roll around the room like a fruit that fell off the vine—”

“Mother, _please_. Sara does not want to hear such stories…”

“Oh, I _very much_ want to hear such stories…” the laughter in her voice was evident, as Sahuna pulled her in closer.

“You would not have known this of course, so you would never think to call him this.”

The look Sara gave him over her shoulder was dangerous, her smile small and devious. “We do _now_.”

Jall slowed a moment, taking her in, nearly arm-in-arm with his true mother as her expression warmed to one of deep fondness when their eyes met—but also, an immeasurable familiarity as if she had just learned every one of his last secrets; They had known each other over countless lives, their souls inexplicably linked over the ages and distance across space, and they knew each other more than anyone else could ever hope to. Jaal was not sure why he was waxing such poetics now, struck so profoundly by the sight of the two women together—the two most precious women in his life—speaking of him as if he were a treasure, and their difference in species did not matter because in this they shared a common joy. He did not deserve such praise; he was _not_ the bravest and the most respected out of his brothers and sisters, but it was no less welcome to hear them speak it.

Perhaps, this was not so bad after all, and he could endure the embarrassment for a little while. 

They eventually moved into the solarium together, bright and inviting in Havarl’s cool light as gentle air wafted in through the open terrace. It was one of the rare respites from the planet's perpetual cycle of rain, the sky clear and the air fresh and invigorating. Jaal had forgotten this view: the sloping mountains blanketed by the myriad of colors from the jungle that swept across the landscape stretching out before them, breaking only for the single Remnant tower that loomed in the distance like an unmoving colossus. Sara must have noticed the same vista, speaking a soft _oh_ of acknowledgment as Sahuna finally removed her arm from her shoulders.

Sara stepped forward, passing under the hanging flowers that draped over the threshold to the outer patio to lean over the edge. Jaal watched the way her hair moved in Havarl’s air, maybe, just a little bit entranced by the sight of her standing out in the light as she took in the expanse. He only noticed his mother had been watching him when she made a soft noise in her throat, her fluctuating energy doing more to get his attention away from his _own_ view as he stood there a bit at a loss for what to do with himself.

Stars and skies he was doomed, so lovestruck he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to wait to ask her if she would have him. His heart hammered in his chest in time with the ebb and flow of his current as it anxiously washed through him. He had been so confident and assured before, trading affections with Sara on the Tempest with ease as if it was the most natural thing—but now, faced with the reality of _truly_ speaking of his intent all that confidence was now escaping him.

“I took your advice…” he heard his mother finally start to speak, delicately as if she hesitated to interrupt the moment. Jaal looked to his mother miserably, hoping she could impart some sort of advice or direction through look and connection alone, but her eyes had averted almost intentionally, a soft, knowing smile on her face. It would appear, she was leaving this to him—he was not a young boy anymore after all, but the fear from inexperience still lingered.

He had not sought out partnership in a very long time, so wounded from Allia’s betrayal that he had never thought of himself worthy again. He had tried eventually, the curator at the historical repository on Aya, but it had been more shallow and not entirely well-planned out. She had been about as oblivious as Jaal was frustrated, at himself mostly, for feeling the impulse to act on something he didn’t truly want, so the effort had been abandoned almost immediately.

Now, he was overcome with desire, the likes of which he had not felt in even longer. It was like heart and mind were making up for lost time, and he felt this need as surely as blood pumped through his veins. The only other time he had felt this way, his heart had been shattered—leaving him afraid—but his mother was right. If he never took the risk, he would never know. 

Sahuna’s movement at the long table in the center of the room broke Jaal out of his moody contemplations, as she began to busy herself with the offerings there. He finally willed his legs to take his body to the table, where he used to sit with his true parents and siblings every night for meals. His mother had set out a number of cups and what looked to be sliced fruit with a steaming pot in the center, and he recognized the aroma of the contents immediately.

“...I was able to procure some coffee from the researchers in Pelaav. Well, _Lathoul_ did. I simply made the request.” Sahuna finally said, letting her hand rest on his for a moment when he finally went to stand next to her.

It was either the mention of coffee or his brother—Sara had asked after Lathoul’s injury a few times, and he was touched by her concern for him. He knew Lathoul would appreciate her sentiments as well—that caught Sara’s attention as she turned around, carefully making her way back inside to join them. She met his eyes, and warmth swam in their depths as she moved to stand at the opposite end.

“Please, sit! I hope this is satisfactory.”

“You really didn’t need to go through all this trouble,” Sara said, cautiously taking a seat in a chair that was much too large for her. Sahuna waved the notion away immediately with a laugh.

“Nonsense. You will find that angara consider hospitality to be one of the most important virtues.” Sahuna was about to sit, but Jaal was suddenly struck with the need to speak to her privately.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling her still underneath him as he spoke. “Mother. That favor I asked of you. I would like to speak to you about it.”

Sahuna eyed him warily, “You will leave your special guest alone?”

“Mother, I—”

“It’s fine. I’ll be okay here if you need to take care of something.” Sara was leaned forward in the chair, studying the sliced fruit in the bowl as if trying to make out what exactly it was. Jaal shifted uneasily, reaching out to his mother’s energy to prod her impatiently.

“Of course. I have banished the family from this part of the house so you will not be disturbed.” She straightened, motioning Jaal to follow her to the laundry back into the hallway. Sara’s eyes widened for a moment to suggest that she was bothered by this notion, but she didn’t comment. “I honestly don’t know how you tolerate him.” Sahuna chirped over her shoulder as she exited. 

“I manage,” Sara offered teasingly as they left the room, leaving her alone in the solarium. Jaal could sense his mother’s annoyance as he followed her into the laundry, holding his pack carefully against his front as he waited for the scolding that was sure to follow.

Instead, she turned to him warmly, previous annoyance diminished as he handed his pack to her cautiously. Before opening it she set it down on the counter next to the washbasin, her eyes narrowing as she studied him.

“First, I must ask what happened to your face, Jaal?” She placed a hand on his cheek, the one where Akksul’s gunshot had broken his skin, and he leaned into her touch almost instinctively.

“Akksul, mother. It is nothing.”

“Ah,” She clicked in annoyance. “That arrogant, little brat. Such a disappointment, the direction he decided to take.” She was of course referring to the Roekaar. His mother would have never found such a venture palatable. “He attacked my son?”

“Yes, mother. It was complicated.” Jaal couldn’t help but smile then, despite how inappropriate it may have seemed. “He stood right before me, and even then could not shoot straight.”

“Do not joke about such things,” she chided, gathering his face in both her hands. Her face turned soft then. “Jaal. You are _overcome_ with love. I feel it in you. You are alive with it.” She pulled him in, pressing her forehead to his where her current swam against his own at the place their faces touched. “She feels it too. I know this. I may not fully know her kind, but I see it in her eyes when she looks at you.”

That… helped. It eased Jaal’s worries a little bit, enough to clear his mind for the moment. He gathered strength from their connection, easing away as his mother removed her hands from his face to turn back to the pack where his soiled rofjinn lay. It only required minimal explanation to express to her what had happened, which Jaal was thankful for, as he didn’t want to relive the event again if he could avoid it. His mother had understood immediately that words were not needed, and she put it away to come back to it later. 

With a hand pressed against his breast, Sahuna imparted upon him whatever strength she could offer. 

“Banish the pain, Jaal. Now there will only be joy.”

*** 

Eventually, Jaal followed his mother back to the solarium where they had left Sara, feeling decidedly lighter than he had when they’d left moments before. 

That was, until Sahuna emitted a startled warble as she hurried into the room in front of him with sudden haste. For a moment panic lanced through him as he rushed after her, fearing the worst in their absence. Had Sara’s wound been aggravated? Had she collapsed? Had a stray adhi found it’s way into the solarium (of course not, but he could not stop the foolish notion from entering his mind) and attacked her?

Jaal was not expecting the sight before him, nor did he expect the effect it would have on him.

Sara was still sitting in the chair where they had left her, but now she balanced one of his nephews in her lap, so focused on the little one to realize they had walked in until his mother’s exclamation had startled her. The youngling was barely into his first year, quietly cooing and chirping at the novelty of the strange alien he had come upon as he pulled curiously at her hair. Sara was bouncing her knees, murmuring soft words that were not translated, but he knew by the look on her face that they were gentle and kind.

“—Paxeel! Stop that!” Sahuna was quick to scoop the child up, clicking at him in a frustration. “I am sorry. It looks like this one got away from his mother…” 

Sara was busy untangling his nephew’s hand from her hair, smiling with a slight wince as he seemed determined as ever to hang on. “It’s okay. He wasn’t bothering me.” She managed to peel his small fist from around the dark strands before his mother hurried his nephew out of the room. 

“I will be back,” Sahuna said, pausing very briefly at Jaal’s side in the doorway to give him a sideways glance before moving past him. He wasn’t quite sure what his mother was trying to tell him, but he knew it was _something_. 

Sara was just finishing straightening her hair when she looked at him. The smiled that crept across her face was beaming. “I’ve never seen an angara that young before. He was pretty cute.”

Jaal felt his current flutter, a stirring in his breast at her joy—her delight at entertaining an angaran young one, and how natural it had appeared—but he tamped _that_ thought down real quick. He finally mustered the strength to move from the doorway to take the seat next to her, watching her fold her hands back on the table in front of her.

“That was my nephew, Paxeel. My sister, Koana’s son.” Jaal offered, resisting the urge to take her hand. Instead he settled on flattening them against his knees. “I’m sorry. I hope you weren’t uncomfortable.”

“I’m used to it. Back home, humans were the only species with hair, except for the quarians, but they were always covered so nobody ever saw them. That tends to be one of the first things someone goes for when meeting us for the first time.” Sara paused, looking thoughtful. “Although I suppose we _still_ are.” She might have looked a little forlorn then, but Jaal couldn’t be sure. “I’ve had to fight off angara with a stick to keep them from pulling at me…” Her smile was amused, not a trace of hostility on her face.

Jaal had wanted to touch her hair for a long time, so curious to _really_ touch it not just in passing to see what it felt like between his fingers, but his time on the Tempest had taught him that it was generally frowned upon. Now, he wondered, would he be welcome?

Sara looked back at him, previous thoughts now gone. “Your mother is very kind, Jaal. She didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“There would have been no stopping her otherwise.” Jaal shrugged, chuckling warmly as he thought back to everything that had happened since they’d arrived. “She may try to steal you. I think she loves you already.”

Sara stilled considerably, and Jaal could tell that there was a question in her eyes before she opened her mouth to speak it.

“She does?” Sara took a breath, her words wavering with small laughter as her brow furrowed. She was nervous. “Do you—”

Sahuna returned then, sweeping into the room at precisely the moment that Jaal’s mouth went agape at Sara’s fumbled attempt at a question. He wondered if he’d heard—or nearly heard—what he thought he did, but his mother immediately took command of the conversation as she began to pour Sara coffee that was thankfully still warm.

That was where they remained for the rest of the evening, Sahuna being most curious to learn about where Sara had come from. 

“Tell me, why do you call your galaxy the Milky Way?”

“Well, technically that’s just what humans call it. Milk is white-colored and—” Sara stopped, appearing to rethink her direction. He suspected she had been about to explain something technical then thought better of it. “Long, long ago, when we looked up at our sky the arms of the galaxy looked like white streaks of stars.” Sara looked wistful at this, and Jaal could tell that she was thinking of the home she’d left behind.

“It seems to me, that your species is quite fond of romantic sentiments.”

“Yeah… I guess we are.” Sara glanced at him then, and it was enough to make his heart race.

Eventually Sara grew visibly weary, and after they’d ate—Sara seemed to enjoy the quilloa and paripo (he suspected his mother had done that on purpose) that had been provided—and had their fill of conversation, Jaal’s mother turned to him.

“I have a Resistance meeting. Jaal, why don’t you take her to where she will sleep?” There was a secondary question in what she suggested, and Jaal knew it instantly. He didn’t know why it felt _right_ , but in that moment it did. It was time. He had to ask her now. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.

The house was quiet then, and while it was still early evening most of his family had retired to their own sections of the home. Had it been earlier, they would have been flooded with other angara in the room they now crossed. As it was now, they didn’t encounter anyone else that evening as he led her through a large common room to a door on the opposite side: his room, one he had not been in for some time.

It was customary for angara to offer their own room to their guests, so he was surprised by the funny look Sara gave him when he explained to her: “This is my room. My tiny little sanctuary.”

Sara regarded the space, her eyes traveling the room fondly as she stepped in. Jaal busied himself with tidying up, cursing at himself that he had not done it sooner while Sara had been distracted by his mother. It appeared that his family had been using his room as a dumping ground since he’d left for Aya almost a year prior. A number of extra crates and family belongings were in there that shouldn’t have been, and there were a few stray toys here and there left by the little ones who had been using his room as a play space. The adult mess had probably, _mostly_ been his mother.

“It’s bigger than the Tech Lab you’ve been living in,” Sara said, and she sounded apologetic. “Do you find the ship too crowded?” She had moved to a shelf against the wall next to his bed, looking over the books and small pieces of half-finished tech projects with interest.

“You have only seen my home empty. When my family fills it, then you will see that the Tempest is comparatively a luxury of space.” He was digging through a drawer at the side of his bed, hunting for blankets for her to use. “It is normally more crowded here. Angara like living in that way.” He placed the procured blankets on top of his bed, grumbling as he noticed how wrinkled they were.

Truthfully, he was trying to distract himself, his heart and current hammering inside him with a frantic need for escape. He sat on his bed, stalling, making a show of organizing the blankets until he heard Sara approach to stand near him.

“Are you okay?” She sat next to him then, and Jaal was painfully aware of her leg touching his. “You look terrified, Jaal.” Finally he managed to turn his face towards hers, and found that her eyes were only swimming with concern. He sensed though, that she was nervous about something. Perhaps when humans invited others into their rooms, they had different intentions.

Jaal remembered then, something that Sara had said to him before, when she had cornered him in the Tech Lab after Kadara. He keenly remembered the exchange had been riddled with flirtation and suggestion. He blushed at the memory, recalling that she _had_ said something about inviting him into her quarters and the words had held an underlying meaning of a romantic nature. He hadn’t meant to blunder into this in quite this manner, but he knew, that if he did not say something now he may never have the courage to again.

“Sara…” he started, turning to her with new eyes. He couldn’t help the way his gaze traveled over her, perhaps searching for some sort of sign where there was no bioelectric current to tell him of her mood. He felt blind, and uncertain, her eyes only pleading with what he imagined was the need for him to speak. “You...make my heart sing,” he finally managed in a small voice, inwardly cursing at how _indirect_ it was. He needed to be blunt now, not flowery and enigmatic; He needed to just _come out with it._

Jaal looked in her eyes then, saw the change there as she reacted to his words, and he drew strength from what he saw as affection in her depths. Taking a breath, he found his center.

“I want us to be together.”

The words escaped him as a tumbled mass, and for a moment he feared her translator had not picked up what he said—or didn’t understand the intent behind them, as she didn’t immediately speak. Her lips parted with a soft gasp, her eyes widening in surprise, and for a moment Jaal felt that center he’d carefully built up begin to plummet as the certain rejection he feared was about to come—

—Until she smiled then, big and bright and delirious.

“I want that too.” Her words were breathless, and… relieved, and now she was laughing. It was escaping her like it had been bottled up inside her for some time and the admission was a desperate release.

Yet all Jaal could really think about was that she’d said _yes_ , his words echoing the sentiments immediately as he couldn’t stop the joy from bursting inside him as his laughter joined hers.

“Yes?!” He had to be sure, that there was no misunderstanding or anything lost in translation: she’d said _yes_ didn’t she?

“Yes! For god’s sake Jaal, you’ve been dancing around this for so long and I couldn’t figure out why. I thought _I_ was crazy...”

Relief, joy, and immeasurable desire coursed through him as the rush of anxiety tinged adrenaline ebbed away, leaving behind a lingering buzz that mingled with his energy like a pleasant throb. If Sara had been angara, she would have most assuredly felt it rippling around him in time with his beating heart: how much he was overcome.

The laughter died slowly, turning into nervous smiles and lingering eyes as they took a moment to study each other. Jaal was struck by the way the light from his window bathed her in blue iridescence, the way it tinted her skin and her hair to make her glow as if she was lit from within. The cool moonlight sparkled in her eyes as they searched his face in wonder, not unlike they had done when he sat with her on the Tempest vidcomm deck.

He had been about to kiss her then, and had lost his nerve when they’d been interrupted and Sara had fled. Now he was determined to correct that mistake.

Before leaving, he had finally gathered the courage to ask Liam if kissing was even something humans did. He realized that making such a mistake if it was not appropriate could have been disastrous, but Liam assured him—rather hurriedly—that humans did in fact kiss, and that it was the same basic practice for humans as it was for angara. How remarkable it was, that something so intimate as expressing your love for your partner in such a way was shared across galaxies.

Before Jaal had turned to leave Liam and meet Sara at the docking bay, the human had called him back. Liam, being his closest friend, of course knew what Jaal’s intentions were. He wagered that if it were not Sara, he may not have been as quick to speak with him on such things.

“A first kiss can be kind of a big deal for humans. So, make it count big guy.”

He did not even think of Liam’s words in that moment, when he raised a hand reverently to Sara’s face to brush a strand of hair—so soft, and delicate—from her cheek. She inhaled, a soft intake of air as his skin brushed against hers, and he marveled at the feeling of his fingers carding through her hair when his palm cradled her face. He did not worry himself with needing to make this perfect when he pulled her in close; he simply acted. She leaned into him then, and like instincts were taking control he found himself drawn to her, finally finding her lips with his own.

And she was as soft and inviting as he’d hoped for, the touch of her lips against his—wanted for so long—sent a shudder through his electrical field that edged out of him with a soft breath against her mouth. It was tentative at first, chaste and unsure, his lips moving over hers exploringly for what must have been minutes before he finally pulled away to collect himself.

Jaal could feel his current lingering, between their breaths where their mouths had just been entwined—a soft swarm of desire swimming in the empty space between them like an anchor. Sara made no move to part further, her eyes half-lidded and gleaming in the light.

“Is that… you that I feel?”

Sara could feel his energy there between their parted lips, her eyes dipping just slightly to emphasis the point. The notion that she could actually _feel_ his love for her between them caused an awakening within his center that he’d never quite felt before.

“Yes.” It was all he could manage then, a low rumble that was heavy in his throat.

“What does it... mean?” She asked, a little breathless and amazed.

Jaal’s eyes slid closed as he pressed his forehead to hers, drawing her closer as his other hand moved to cradle her head fully. Sara’s breath whispered across his face, fanning against his mouth as he tried to slow his heart enough to orient himself and regain some sense. They’d been in this position before, but never quite like this, and he revelled in it.

“I adore you.” His response was shaky and desperate, but all the prompt Sara needed to find his lips again of her own will. He couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped him then, when her mouth moved over his once more with new intensity as he only just then realized that her hands were on his shoulders. The weight of her touch there spurred a sudden need to deepen the kiss and taste her more fully. Her mouth was still sweet from the fruit they had eaten, but he needed more.

Sara’s lips were parted against his, and he wondered if it was an invitation to go further—hoped—as he tentatively sought her tongue with his own. She responded immediately, enthusiastically, opening her mouth fully as her tongue—warm and softer than he’d expected, but stronger than its tenderness would have suggested—slid against his with a heavy exhale of air through her nose. She was even more sweeter now, her cautious dance in his mouth dissolving into growing boldness as he quested to explore her further.

His current lanced through him, jumping across his body to hers like a conduit and Jaal felt her shudder then, pulling him in like she wanted to disappear. He kind of did too, so lost in this moment that nothing else mattered, and he was struck by the sudden ferocity of desire that bloomed low in his belly and pooled deep.

Breaking apart, Jaal forced his lips to leave hers with a soft gasp as Sara made a subtle noise of protest in her throat. His energy throbbed, surging as powerfully as his heart pounded in his breast and the insistent stirring in his loins implored him to _stop_ , and collect himself now before a line was crossed that he wasn’t willing to cross yet. He hadn’t thought that far ahead—wasn’t anywhere near prepared, or even knowledgeable about the topic with regard to a human—although, admittedly, he knew they shared a basic compatibility after sneaking a few peaks in the Nexus archives out of... curiosity. 

There could be no rush, even though he didn’t realize until that moment how much he _wanted_ it. It would have to be perfect.

Sara deserved no less than absolute perfection…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaahhhh~~
> 
> To be continued...


	7. Contemplations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaal and Sara both contemplate the change after their first kiss, and their thoughts get pretty deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoopsie, looks like they're both pretty thirsty. But I mean... dang tho.
> 
> I've made a heck of a lot of assumptions and taken many liberties with Jaal's backstory based on what little we're actually given in the game. This is just sort of what came out as I was typing.

When Jaal abruptly pulled away, leaving a cold emptiness in the space he’d just occupied, Sara had a pretty good feeling as to why he’d suddenly broken their embrace. The way he’d quickly pulled his hands from her, averting his eyes while trying to normalize his breathing spoke volumes. Alone, it didn’t say much, but considering the circumstances Sara could recognize the signs.

Sara’s cheeked burned, both from the realization that he’d perhaps gotten a bit more _heated_ than intended, and with the sudden weight of what had just transpired between them as it settled over her. She was feeling a bit warmer than normal too.

Jaal had asked her to be his. He’d finally just come out and _asked_ what she’d suspected was on his mind for some time. Sara hadn’t been misinterpreting his subtle hints and suggestions after all, the flirtations and wandering eyes meaning exactly what she’d hoped.

She was delirious with joy, and maybe a little bit of relief that this hadn’t been a stupid cross-species misunderstanding. It had been a long time since she’d felt like this, and she was _drowning_ in it. Words couldn’t accurately express the emotion that was racing through her in that moment: the giddy, child-like delight that had her trembling anxiously with adrenaline. She had been wondering for so long what Jaal was trying to tell her, if anything at all, and now there were no more lingering questions.

He wanted her.

And she wanted him just as badly.

Jaal practically lunged off the bed then, spinning around to gather both of her hands in his own, and Sara couldn’t help but notice the deep blue flush on his cheeks as he seemed to be avoiding eye contact. He looked just a tad startled, to put it mildly, lips pulled back in a shy smile as he gave her hands a gentle tug.

Finally he managed to meet her gaze, and what she saw there was astonishing. Sara had to suppress the small gasp she’d nearly let escape at just the _look_ of him, pupils blown much wider than normal. They caught the moonlight that managed to filter into the room in an almost haunting way, reflecting the glow back outwards like tiny sparks against the ring of brilliant blue. It was mesmerizing—alluring—and, also more or less confirming what Sara had always suspected.

Jaal had gotten a little bit too _excited_ ; The only other time she’d seen him this way was when he’d lost his temper at Liam in the mess hall—excited, but under a different context she supposed—and this time it appeared he was determined to employ distraction in an effort to slow things down. That was fine by Sara. She was eager to ease back the pace and see where things led. There was still so, _so_ much to learn and do, and this was too important to rush.

Sara’s stomach did a few little backflips, the flutter of shock and delight crowding the warmth that had begun to churn deep down inside her during their embrace. This was… extraordinary, how _normal_ it felt.

“There’s something you might like…” Jaal said delicately, pulling her towards his front with a nervous smile. She returned the gesture, feeling the lingering pull of his bioelectric energy as she stepped into his space, and it was like they were looking at each other through a new lense. Sara supposed, that wasn’t too far from the truth. Jaal’s fluctuating, energetic tug at her body certainly _felt_ different as he motioned to the floor. “Lie down.”

“Really?” Sara paused, her own small laugh betraying the fact that she was unsure as to what Jaal was getting at. “ _Here_ on the floor?”

“Ah—I want to show you something,” Jaal clarified, and Sara had to mentally smack herself for even considering that there were different intentions there. _Calm down_ , she mentally chided, feeling at the same moment SAM begin to stir in her awareness as if reacting to her strange vitals. She pushed at him, asserting that she would explain to him what was going on later, which seemed to placate the AI as he settled back down to the recesses of their connection. Her full attention needed to be here, on Jaal, as she complied with his request to slowly lie down on the floor. He didn’t immediately join her, but instead walked to the far side of the room to fiddle with what Sara could determine was a switch on the wall.

Then, suddenly she was seeing stars.

The sweeping expanse of a starscape laid out before her, hanging in the empty space of the room like a twinkling web of azure light. She was bathed in it, literally starstruck, equally so by the vision of Jaal striding towards her where she lay on his floor. Her heart did another flip as he looked down to meet her stunned gaze, his expression a mixture of appreciation and adoration as he knelt to stretch out next to her.

They lay there together for a moment, quiet and pondering as Sara tried to put to words what she was seeing. 

“Is this… Heleus?” Sara finally managed, tracing the invisible connections between the individual orbs of light that wavered in the air. She didn’t recognize the patterns, no familiar constellations or celestial bodies to tell her what exactly she was seeing, and that stirred a pang of sadness in her chest as she realized with a finality that this was not the Milky Way. That was a very long ways away…

“It is…” Jaal rumbled, his voice reverent next to her as he looked at the same star patterns above them. “I made this. A very long time ago. It isn’t accurate…” Sara thought it didn’t really need explanation, as she wouldn’t have noticed anyway, but she frowned regardless at his self-deprecation.

“It doesn’t have to be,” she offered quietly. “It’s still beautiful.”

She sensed Jaal shift next to her, heard the change in his breath as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Something I want to… figure out.” he sighed then, the action deep from the very bottom of his chest as he exhaled. His voice was heavy with an emotion Sara had never quite heard before. There was a longing there, to find a place within the larger question of what it all meant, and she imagined Jaal as a child staring into this same endless void looking for a sense of purpose for himself.

It was something he had shared with perhaps every child in the universe.

Jaal had mapped it all out, like an architect putting structural form to an idea or a mathematician forming reality’s truth out of an equation—to carve out the question and see it there tangible before you in order to make sense of it all.

Sara was suddenly struck by the profoundness of this idea, and strangely, how familiar it felt. She slid her hand to his where it was resting near her on the floor, watching as the expression on his profile changed when her fingers brushed against his. He turned to face her then, his eyes still filled with the stars they sat under as he grasped her hand fully. She felt something tingle in her palm, warming up through her arm making the little hairs stand on-end. It was similar to what she felt when she’d held his face on the Nexus to stop him from undercutting his own efforts at cooking for her, and she realized with certainty that this must have been affection. It felt like it anyway, so Sara was content with that observation even if she would never fully understand.

“Well, now you have someone to do it with,” Sara whispered, letting the words dissolve into a small smile as she felt a sharp sense of awareness hit her emotions. His expression, warm and adoring as his eyes found hers, began to blur as Sara felt certain tears begin to well up. She turned her face upwards again, hoping to let gravity stem the tide, but she also didn’t want Jaal to see her cry while a number of whirling emotions hit her all at once. She didn’t want him to misunderstand what she was feeling, especially after confessing their attraction and sharing their first kiss; a kiss that had been _perfect_.

This, here with him, should have felt so unnatural and strange. The will of the universe ordained that the two of them should have never crossed paths. She was supposed to die, 600 years ago in a galaxy millions of lightyears away, and he was supposed to live and breath in Heleus without ever knowing that she had existed. They literally, should have never known that an idea of the other had been, or ever would be—but somehow she’d landed on Aya in flames, and he’d put out the fire.

How thrilling it was, that she had defied all that higher logic and made it here at precisely this moment, that she had left with the Initiative and only a sense of unknown as she slept across a vacuum of dark space. Just so she could lie here under a map of stars that this man had made as a child, as if preparing for this very moment to share with her. A map that _she_ could have made so long ago growing up on Earth. That _many_ children in the Milky Way could have made, looking up with the same need as him: A need that was universal.

Perhaps it was arrogant of her, to think that there was some pre-ordained fate that drew them together—that she was special enough to warrant such attention from a force that surely didn’t exist. Sara didn’t actually believe in any sort of higher power, but she couldn’t deny how moving it was to think that something profound had aligned just right to bring them to each other.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world, to lose herself in his passionate embrace and drink the love from his lips like she was starved of it. The kiss they had shared still lingered on her mouth, the faint tingle of his energy a remnant of his desire and it felt so _right_. Much more than it should have, considering that time, distance and circumstance dictated that they should never have shared that moment in the first place. In a home that should have culturally shocked her, made her uneasy and feel out of place, but instead it felt like a home she wanted to return to.

This could have been any home, any previous boy that she would have opened herself up to in the Milky Way, but it wasn’t. _He_ wasn’t. But it was no less wonderful, and it felt like she was meant to be here. 

It was incomprehensible, but Sara didn’t need to understand it to know that she finally felt like this—with Jaal—was _home_.

The tears came then, hot and heavy as they slid down the side of her face while she silently let them fall. The reality of home—not Earth, the Citadel or the Milky Way—being _this place_ now made a sudden tightness settle in her chest as she tried desperately to hold back a sob. Sara had spent many nights this way, crying at the loss of what she’d left behind, angry at the Initiative and confused as to how they’d gotten everything so wrong, and thinking back longingly to what she would never see again with a subtle sense of regret. She knew they all did on the Tempest, even if they wouldn’t immediately share it, but it had always hung unspoken in the recycled air of the ship like a cloud.

Coming to terms with the finality of saying that last goodbye to her birthplace, and being at peace with it, was a startling pill to swallow. Harder still, was saying that goodbye as she stared up at a landscape she didn’t know.

“Darling one, you are crying?” Jaal’s question, a low murmur at her side, startled her enough to make her turn to him. The tears that had been holding at her eyes spilled down against the bridge of her nose and across her face, making her vision swim. As she blinked it all away, she saw the outline of Jaal shift onto his side as he drew closer to her, pulling her towards him with the hand that was wrapped with her own.

“These are… good tears, Jaal,” Sara said, her voice wavering unnaturally with emotion. She let him pull her against him, turning onto her own side as she tucked her other hand under her head like a pillow. Jaal touched her cheek, wiping away the moisture as he brought her hand close to his chest. “I’m… overwhelmed.”

“Tell me,” he spoke, hand palming her face lovingly. “I want to know.” His eyes moved across her face as if he couldn’t help but take her all in, before resting on her bleary gaze, the line of his mouth turning slightly to a frown. The way he looked at her now… was so _intense_ , like there was nothing else in this universe as important as she was, and it was astounding.

“Being here, with you—” Sara swallowed, to still her throat that seemed to be filled with a lump of emotion. “—It’s kind of amazing because… I really shouldn’t be. If I had never joined the Initiative—”

Jaal raised himself on his elbow to look at her more fully, the hand on her face sliding to rest at the nape of her neck where his thumb began to trace idle circles in her hair. Sara couldn’t help but smile at the touch, enjoying the attention as it helped to calm her.

“I am glad that you did. You are here now, and that is all that matters.”

Sara sighed heavily, wondering how Jaal managed to make so much sense in so few words. Of course that was all that mattered. Lingering on the what-if’s was not productive or even necessary. “It’s… hard to explain. This feels normal, and that’s good.” Sara felt a little more grounded now, letting her eyes slide closed to enjoy Jaal’s careful attention at the back of her neck. “I need normal, in the middle of all this… _pathfinding_ ,” she mumbled, allowing the sense of calm to settle over her as she finally managed to tamp down the warring emotions in her heart. Jaal made a noise that sounded like a chuckle, and it made her smile.

“I am… humbled,” he said then, making Sara open her eyes again to look at him more fully. “That you would make that journey across dark space to be here with me.” She settled against his shoulder, tucking her body against his as she found a spot to rest her head around the sloping protrusions down his chest. _Even just being close to him like this feels… normal_ … It was so easy to slip into these small intimacies, to curl against him and simply _listen_ to how his voice moved through his body: so alien and fascinating. “It is… hard to fathom, that I should be so lucky.”

Sara thought that there was nowhere else she belonged in that moment, feeling the soft rumble in his chest—persistent and vibrating, almost like a purr—underneath her as she tucked against him, unable to contain the goofy half-smile that slid across her face. She let his warmth and the faint swirl of his current against her lull her into a light doze as they remained there in silence underneath the stars.

_But I feel like the lucky one…_

Sara didn’t remember falling asleep, but at some point she realized Jaal was carrying her to his bed.

“I’m sorry, did I—” She started to apologize, voice heavy with sleep as he set her down lengthwise, offering her a tender smile as he unfolded blankets over her. Her barely awake brain was confused for a few moments as Jaal quite literally tucked her into bed.

“Please rest now, darling one. I will see you in the morning.” The tone of his voice and the way he subtly began to edge away from her suggested he would be sleeping elsewhere. Sara was about to protest, not wanting to force him to sleep on a couch somewhere—exactly _where_ he would sleep didn’t really cross her mind—but realized as her eyes began to droop again that she was too tired to put forth the effort.

Jaal touched the switch that extinguished the starscape above before he left the room, and in the comfort of Havarl’s moonlight, wrapped in a number of soft angaran blankets, Sara fell asleep feeling loved. For the first time in a long while she did not dream about the Milky Way.

*** 

Alone in the solarium, Jaal stood quietly against the backdrop of Havarl’s quiet beauty before him, contemplating everything that had happened since they had arrived that day. Sara had quickly grown comfortable in his mother’s presence, and it was clear that Sahuna had decided that she liked her—perhaps a little too much, but he supposed that was better than the alternative. It had gone far better than he could have ever hoped for, and even his little nephew sneaking into the room had not soured it. Sara had been so kind, and the simple sight of her interacting with the small child with no hesitation or annoyance had looked normal, like she was meant to be there.

He would cherish seeing such a sight again...

Above all things that crowded his mind, the most astonishing, exciting, and precious thing took priority above all else: Sara had said _yes_. She wanted to be with him. The rejection Jaal had been so afraid of did not come, and his worries about miscommunication had been unfounded. Sara _had_ been recognizing his intentions, and he only regretted not being more clear sooner.

Jaal was filled to bursting with a sense of completion in his spirit the likes of which he had never experienced before. The memory of the intimacy they’d shared—the first blossoming of love and attraction—had been innocent, but no less wanting. Her need for him had been as fierce and immediate as his for her, and he was overjoyed. He had never been _desired_ so by another, or felt worthy enough to be the object of someone else’s affections. The sheer intensity of what it had done to him in just those brief moments was almost frightening, but, he was curious and eager to seek out more.

He could still feel her lips, so soft and desperate while her breath mingled with his and he could have became intoxicated with it. It had been on Jaal’s mind for so long, the desire to find out what she would feel and taste like while she was in his arms. Admittedly, it had probably been the reason for too many restless nights on the Tempest where sleep refused to claim him, so preoccupied with imagination that relaxing his current and his body was impossible. How quickly sheer curiosity had intensified to complete and total infatuation, while being completely unaware that Sara had been feeling the same.

Now he knew, and it was sweeter than any fruit Jaal had ever tasted. He had wanted to kiss her once more, over and over again, and perhaps never leave his room so that he could wrap around her while they slept...but that was perhaps too hasty. There would be time for that yet, but for now he would need to learn how to tamp down the very angaran instinct to shower her with every affection that came to him. She _couldn’t_ be ready for that yet, so Jaal would be patient, and he would learn. Right now the most important thing was that Sara got the rest and quiet that she needed, and he certainly didn’t want his entire family to start gossiping about the two of them spending the night in his own room together, regardless of the innocence behind it.

Sara slept in privacy, so Jaal took these moments to fully comprehend the good fortune that had befallen him. There were still challenges ahead: things to figure out and overcome, with the added stresses of the Archon’s threat hanging constantly over them like a looming disaster. It was a threat that could snuff out all of this beautiful circumstance at any moment, but Jaal was determined to see her through this with every fiber of his being. There was no other possible outcome, and he was desperate to see what the future held.

Jaal felt his mother’s presence before she’d even entered the solarium, and he turned to regard her appreciatively as she stepped through the doorway. Sahuna hummed in acknowledgment, his freshly cleaned rofjinn folded carefully in her arms as she slipped into the spot next to him. Her motherly current laced with his in greeting as they settled against each other.

“Darling son,” she regarded him warmly, following his gaze out into the expanse beyond. A group of manta floated serenely in the distance, their song a haunting warble amidst the landscape. “You are more clear now than when you arrived.”

Jaal knew his mother would sense this, the calm, eddying flow of his current that was now greatly at ease with the knowledge that Sara shared his love. It flowed around him like a wave, slow and _pleased_. It was a harsh contrast to the stuttering, erratic pulsing of his worry when they’d arrived.

“Am I?” Jaal feigned, allowing his mouth to curve into a half-smile that his mother surely saw right through. Sahuna scrutinized him carefully, her eyes crinkling with a knowing joy from the words he did not speak but she knew to be true.

“She shares your love.” It was spoken as a statement; A fact that his mother had been so assured of with only knowing Sara for mere minutes. It was a detail she would probably remind him of as often as she could for a long time to come. His mother’s intuition had always been unmatched.

When Jaal turned to his mother then, he only needed to smile to communicate to her what had transpired between them in his room. Surely, he would not tell his mother all the details—Jaal blushed at such a thought—but he would give her this much.

“Yes mother, you were right _all along_.” He hadn’t meant the words to be laced with mockery, but he could not resist being just a _little_ defiant of his mother’s wisdom; a habit from his more incorrigible teenage years when all his attempts to take things apart and “improve” them had usually been the cause of minor bodily harm.

Of course, Sahuna knew that his attitude now was all in jest, and she beamed at him, reciprocating the joyous wobble of Jaal’s energy with a soothing pulse of her own. “I am so pleased for you. Stars and skies light the way, for you both…” She handed him the rofjinn in her arms, careful and attentive, and he unwrapped his arms from around his front to take it from her. “Clean. Free of the remnants of your pain. Now you will wear it with the knowledge that from this moment forward there will only be strength and love.” He looked at the rofjinn in his hands, considering the new start of things that it signified.

“Thank you, mother,” Jaal rumbled, letting Sahuna pull his face to hers for their foreheads to touch. She pressed a gentle whisper of energy against him that he returned with earnest affection. “For your clarity.” It truly did feel like a part of him had ebbed away, a fragment of himself that he could no longer recognize: the Resistance lieutenant who had become so single-minded in his pursuit of justice against the kett that he had nearly given up on himself. He had become so consumed with the focus of achieving a higher purpose, and to overshadow the rejection that had followed him in his heart for so many years.

His brother, and Allia were gone now. They had been gone for some time. When Bahsekk, celebrated and respected in the Resistance—a boon to the family name—had caught Allia’s wandering eyes he had convinced himself then that he would never be worthy of that same adoration. If he hadn’t been enough to keep her attentions, then surely he could be enough for no one. Joining the Resistance had been an attempt to seal that wound that would never heal. Perhaps, he could find a shallow praise and even a fraction of that acceptance by helping his people, and learn to accept that all he may ever get is admiration for his utilitarian skill, and not for what was in his heart.

That was who he had been when the Tempest landed on Aya that day. Evfra’s orders had been an opportunity to really prove what he was worth, and maybe, eventually he would feel whole. He had never expected that what would make him whole would be the alien who had been led through the streets of Aya at gunpoint, only to speak to him and Evfra with such compassion; dropping into his life like a metaphorical asteroid and knocking his path astray.

Jaal had been lost before that, struggling to overcome the weight of expectation and hurt of betrayal. He had wanted to be respected, celebrated and loved, but at what cost? He had nearly become numb. Angara did not become _numb_ , or at least, did not do so willingly. To lose feeling meant that your heart had been rendered apart and destroyed; the spirit hardening and refusing to relent. Becoming Evfra, or Akksul, was not what he had wanted, but he’d seen no other option to dull the pain that followed him with every breath.

That part of him was gone, and the final threads of that pain were unraveling and pulling away. Jaal felt a new beginning now, where he was free of those burdens and clear of purpose. Sara had found him, and now his heart was open, and waiting to drink in new light.

He was _worthy_.

“Jaal.” Sahuna was speaking as she pulled away from him, her face wondering. Placing a hand on his cheek to trace the fresh scar there, she frowned. “I worry for you. Every moment of every day.” Sahuna’s tone changed then, forlorn and uneasy. “I worry that one day I will receive the news that you will never be coming home. Like your father.”

The guilt Jaal felt then was palpable, the very idea that he could hurt his mother again so profoundly making his heart squeeze. He remembered with painful clarity how he felt when he learned his father was not coming home. His mother’s pain and despair when she had been given the news by a solemn Resistance captain at their door, was as clear in his mind as the day it had happened: the tears she shed, and the strength she tried to impart despite her fractured heart and the dread that hovered over the entire household after that day. 

There was never any closure. He had gone to work in the mines one morning, then the kett attacked and he was no more. By the time the Resistance had arrived it was too late. The kett had left no survivors, so the only thing left to do was notify the next of kin. Jaal’s father had either been exalted, or perished in a slave camp later. They would never know.

Jaal remembered the hollow, quiet absence in the space his father once occupied, that was once filled with his booming laughter, biting wit, unyielding strength and undying affection for his mother and all his children. He remembered his father’s joy while teaching him to master his bioelectric field, to direct the current through his first _firaan_ , one that he had never replaced and still kept with him to this day. Each kett that perished under its blade was a small piece of justice in his father’s name. He’d had so much to learn yet, lessons unfinished that Jaal never pursued, knowing that no teacher could replace him.

When Bahsekk and Allia met the same fate, it hadn’t quite felt the same. Ashamedly, Jaal had even felt relieved for a time, that he would no longer have to face them again and relive his pain. That had been the foolish anger of a young man who knew no better, and when it finally faded and reality sunk in he’d finally been able to shed the tears that had been waiting.

The resentment would never fade, at least for a while, and it meant that the loss was not quite as poignant as the parting of his father. He had been a guide, and he’d loved all his sons with equal measure, and Jaal never had to wonder where he stood with him.

Perhaps after all the loss, Jaal had been looking for a reason to escape and fill a hole that had been left behind by the family members he would never see again, so the Resistance had seemed like the easy way to run.

What was left now was nothing more than the ghost of _something_ in their home like a wisp of smoke that still lingered: an energy left behind that was nearly faded and ready to disappear. It was a reality that every angara faced every single waking moment, but it made it no less difficult to consider his own possible fate and what it would mean. The death of his father had been the first, and it had hit the family the hardest. When the others followed, it re-opened old wounds and created new ones, his mother facing the full brunt of the blow and barely coming out of the mourning unscathed. She would not survive losing another child.

“I will always come home…” He wasn’t sure what else to say; He had no doubts that the words were true, but there was always the lingering doubt of _what if_ hanging over everything when it came to what they were trying to achieve. The mission of the Tempest, was so far beyond anything the angara had even attempted, and they were racing into danger that was unprecedented…

“Every day, I search the Resistance reports…I speak to the Initiative people in the daar... dreading the day I may be faced with the news that your ship was destroyed, or that something has happened to you on a planet far away from me where I could not protect you.” Sahuna’s voice was heavy, thick and warbling with restrained sorrow, and it pained Jaal to see her in such a state. He held her, letting her feel his love through the swell of energy that blanketed them, allowing himself the luxury of a smile as her face tucked into the hollow of his throat.

“Mother, I fear your wrath too much, in the next life and beyond, to even think of doing such a thing…” Jaal could feel the moment his mother tensed under him, her current stuttering with shock at his ability to speak with jest. He simply wanted his mother to smile...

“Jaal, do not joke of such things.” Sahuna chided, pushing him away with an imitation of anger. “You must take these things seriously!” She frowned again, and Jaal regretted his misplaced attempt at humor. He took his mother’s hand and she eased considerably.

“The people of the Initiative are strong. On the Tempest they share this. I feel it every moment I am with them, and I know, we will win…” Jaal thought of the woman, his love, sleeping in his room and he warmed. “Sara is a strong, capable leader. She will say otherwise, but I know that we will all follow her without question. She will accept nothing less than victory against the kett and the freedom of our people…” It was not simply a lie to placate his mother. Jaal knew this with conviction, that if anyone, or anything could achieve this, it was the aliens he now considered family. With the might of the Resistance behind them, it was inevitable.

It was a thrilling, long-awaited prospect, and he knew many angara shared the same sentiments. Perhaps Evfra as well, although he would never admit it.

“I will hold Sara to it then,” Sahuna said, but her small smile indicated it was not an attempt to be aggressive in such a demand. Jaal knew his mother meant well, but considering what he knew of Sara’s family she would probably find a doting, fretting, angaran mother too much of a handful. He didn’t know if she would welcome the affection that she had possibly missed.

“Please do not scare her. She may begin to rethink her feelings for me if it means tolerating you.” Jaal had no illusions that Sara was that flippant, but he still dread the actuality of his mother being overbearing.

“You insist on being so mean to your mother!” She hit him, the action barely a nudge on his arm, but the meaning behind it was one of love. 

“She will have to meet the rest of the family tomorrow, and after meeting you I’m not sure her heart can handle such stress.” The flicker of a smile edged across his lips, but Sahuna was not amused.

“I will remember this next time you want a favor.”

“But I am your favorite son…” Jaal pouted, cherishing the look of exasperation on his mother’s face.

“A fact I am beginning to reconsider…” Sahuna huffed, her eyes narrowing. “And since you are so bad at keeping in contact with your mother, I will need to stay updated on your progress through Sara. Maybe _she_ will care enough to keep me from worrying!”

Jaal flushed, unsure how to feel about his mother corresponding with Sara privately. What would they talk about? Would they talk about _him_? Would Sara even _want_ to hear from his mother once they return to the Tempest? His mother had a tendency to write very long messages, and would often send multiple ones in very quick succession as new questions and thoughts came to her that she was unable to cover in her first correspondence. Sara received enough messages as it was…

“You will need to ask Sara. It is not my place to give you her personal details…” Jaal didn’t realize how much he’d opened himself up to further problems from that sentence.

“Of course,” his mother soothed, but she smiled then, and her current brightened. “I have many questions for her anyway. Private questions I’m sure you will not be able to answer—”

“Mother—” Jaal felt his current snap with a start, having an unfortunate idea as to what she was going to ask Sara. Sahuna was not shy about asking intimate details that she had no business knowing, and there was no denying that she would be curious to find out more about the woman that her son was going to be… _intimate_ with. Angara were naturally curious, his mother was a prime example of this fact, and nothing would be off-limits.

Sahuna caught on to his concern, swatting him with a look as she waved a hand across his face dismissively. “Do not look at me that way. I am not so senseless that I will ask them all outright…” Jaal was not wholly convinced.

“You have no shame, mother. Perhaps wait a little while before you start asking her for grandchildren.” He’d meant it more as a joke, yet the warmth that was now creeping up his neck suggested that he wasn’t as opposed to the idea as he probably should be; at least right now. _Focus, that is not something we should be discussing right now—_

“I tease you, Jaal.” Sahuna patted his breast where the rofjinn was still tucked against him, before running a hand along his cheek. The flicker of joy that passed across her gaze warned him that she would not be ignoring what he’d just said, but mercifully she chose not to speak of it.

Exhaling a breath, his mother leaned into his side, so Jaal wrapped and arm around her shoulders so that they could enjoy the view together.

“Your father would be proud of you, Jaal.”

That stuck with Jaal for the rest of the evening, and when he finally lay down to sleep in one of his sister’s rooms (she was away on Voeld, with the Resistance), he fell asleep remembering what his father had said to him before leaving for the mines that day.

He had been pouting again, moody from a failed attempt at amplifying a power core only to have it burst in his face, and his father had pulled him aside to soothe him.

“Patience, Jaal. Sooner than you think, you will see your greatness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I've gotten through more or less what we're given in the game for the Havarl scene, what's next on their final day is completely me writing something sweet and fluffy that I'd _like_ to see, so more expansions coming.
> 
> I also don't think they ever name the brother that ended up getting together with Allia, so I had to come up with something on my own.


	8. Culture Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAM finally starts asking questions, Sara experiences a little bit of culture shock and an angaran bathroom, and maybe learns a little bit more about herself in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been just about two months exactly since I updated, but I had some things I had to get through before I was ready. I should be back and updating more regularly from here on out for anyone still reading ME:A fanfics. Are people still doing that?? Well, this will be here for those who are interested.

For the first time in a long while, Sara woke up naturally without SAM to wake her at what had been determined to be the “reasonable start of the workday,” which was a very welcome change. She was snuggled within a number of soft blankets, warm and comforting, and she was greatly tempted to let the soft swaddle of fabric ease her back into a doze. Jaal’s bed was cozy, more so than her own on the Tempest, and she would have burrowed into it if she could. The fact that it somehow managed to smell like him (how she wondered, if he probably hadn’t slept in it for some time. That probably said more about her than it did about anything else…) only made it that much more tempting to never leave.

Sara could have easily fallen back asleep, but there was a small, rhythmic chirping from outside the window next to her that sounded an awful lot like a bird from somewhere just inside the jungle. It lacked the singular clearness of bird song, having a slightly lower waver to it that mixed in with the higher pitch, reminding her a bit of the resonance of angaran vocals. Sara would have laid there for a while longer to simply listen to it and pretend it was just a simple songbird, working out in her imagination what she thought the creature would look like, until the pinging of her Omni-tool finally demanded her attention.

With a sigh, Sara settled back into the raised slope of the bed that was the angara equivalent of pillows, and began rifling through her messages. There were a few emails of thanks from researchers on Eos and the Nexus, an update on Taerve Uni from Addison, and a very brief, blunt message from Evfra regarding the small Resistance outfit he had “gifted” to Prodromos and how they were settling in. 

It warmed Sara to see this level of cooperation start to unfold between the Initiative and the Resistance: slow, and still somewhat wary on both sides of course, but trading protections in this way was a larger step than had ever been taken. They were starting to watch each other’s backs on a wider scale than before, encouraging integration and understanding in areas other than the relative safety of the Nexus. Angara living amongst the researchers on Eos to help stave off the lingering kett there was in exchange for the APEX teams Kandros had been dispatching to Voeld. These small alliances were part of a larger hope, and Sara was glad that she could have at least a _little_ impact on making it happen. 

While Evfra’s message had been brief—he preferred to say as much as possible with little words and embellishment—there was additional subtext in the closing of the message that was new. Somehow, in a very vague, round-about way, Evfra expressed appreciation that she wasn’t _dead_ at the hands of her injury. He’d even ended the message with what one could easily mistake as admiration for her actions on the Archon’s flagship, and Sara was sure it had taken him more effort than she could possibly calculate. She supposed, that was about as much consolation as she was likely to get from the Resistance commander and she’d take it, although he seemed to be slowly warming up to her. She vaguely wondered what Evfra would think about this new development between her and Jaal, considering he had sort of unknowingly instigated it by placing his lieutenant on her ship months ago. The thought of his inevitable scowl put a small smile on her face.

More importantly, there were a few messages from her crew regarding the Tempest’s current course for Havarl and it’s arrival the next day. Sara frowned—her job never ended it would seem—slightly disappointed that her time off was nearly over, but she supposed, the kett didn’t exactly take vacations so it wouldn't do to appear lazy. They were to meet Drack on Eladaan after the Tempest retrieved her and Jaal, although Suvi also had some research materials to drop off at Daar Pelaav so it wasn’t a _complete_ diversion. Cora was still on the Nexus, as apparently they’d run into a snag regarding their Meridian problem, so that little issue was still on hold.

So, until tomorrow, the time still belonged to her and Jaal.

As if he had been summoned by this very thought, SAM finally awakened within her mind. He had stirred a few times over the last week during her recovery, but for the most part had been notably silent. She’d still been able to feel him—he was always there—but he’d held good on his promise that he wouldn’t speak unless he’d had something important to say.

_“Sara, based on your current vitals, your recovery is at 87% physical efficiency. I believe this will be sufficient to return to the field when you are ready.”_

_“Thank you, SAM.”_

_“There is another matter I would like to discuss with you.” Here we go_ … SAM was going to ask her about last night. Sara braced herself, not at all prepared to have this discussion with an AI. _“I detected a dramatic increase in Jaal’s electrostatic energy field last night, and I would like to ask you more about what transpired.”_ Sara couldn’t help but smile again, remembering the kiss they had shared. Her lips no longer tingled, but the memory of it was still clear in her mind. What made her smile vanish however, was the reality sinking in that her AI implant was about to ask her questions about it.

 _“It’s complicated SAM. It’s an...organic thing. Shit, I’m not ready to discuss the birds and the bees with you.”_ Sara knew SAM was not stupid. He was fully integrated with an incalculable number of terabytes of data on human information—it was necessary for him to fulfill all his functions to have basic understanding of how humans and organics worked, but the practical application, or experience rather, was clearly not something Alec Ryder had thought would be important.

Communication had never really been one of her father’s strengths, especially when it came to his children coming of age so Sara had relied on the extranet for a lot of that information when her mother had simply been too busy to have time for her or Scott. Surely, he wouldn’t have found it necessary to give SAM a rundown on how romance and attraction actually worked, if he couldn’t even be bothered to have that conversation with his own children.

 _“While I do not understand that reference, I suspect that you are referring to the biological drive for organics to couple and reproduce. I am familiar with the basic concept of sexual reproduction among organics.”_ SAM confirmed he did more or less know what sort of conversation they were getting into, but that somehow made his phrasing that much more cringe-worthy.

 _“My god, don’t talk about it like that.”_ Sara sighed audibly, feeling her face grow hot with a blush at the very _thought_. She tried to work out how she was going to phrase it so that the AI would understand. How did one really describe the emotional component of what was happening to her and Jaal, to lines of complex computer code? _“It’s more than that. Two people can care about each other so much that they want to be close, and share parts of them that they don’t really do for anyone else. It feels good to just be around each other. I guess you could call it love. Make sense?”_

SAM was silent for a few moments, and Sara wondered if the AI was actually considering his next response carefully.

 _“I was able to ascertain that from the change in Jaal’s energy field and his vitals, and your vitals as well, that the two of you were experiencing a physical and emotional response due to your activities. This is what you mean.”_ Sara felt a flutter of agitation at SAM’s literal interpretation of her and Jaal practically making out the night before as a simple activity, but she chose not to over-complicate the matter by pointing it out.

_“Yeah… I guess. When two people share an attraction it feels good to be near them. We’re attracted to each other. You’re probably going to be experiencing a lot of new things going forward SAM…”_

_“Then I assume, the physiological response I detected in Jaal, was caused by these feelings.”_ Sara feared, that SAM was about to make the very obvious observation that she knew was coming. Sure enough— _”If my assumptions are correct, and based on additional data from a number of your interactions with Jaal on the Tempest, I can conclude that he had become sexually aroused—”_

 _“—SAM, do me a favor and never utter another word when you detect… Jaal’s arousal…”_ Sara burned, embarrassed that she even needed to have this conversation. _“—Or my arousal for that matter. I don’t need you to spell it out for me. Stick to warning me when someone is about to kill me.”_ Really, Sara had been able to put two-and-two together on her own the night before to ascertain that Jaal had pulled away for that very reason. She’d even found herself becoming very hot, very quickly; surprising in of itself as to how immediately her feelings for him had intensified over such a short-period of time.

But, that was kind of the point of all this: to jump in and discover all of these surprises yourself. Sara didn’t really need an AI to alert her when Jaal, or herself, were _in the mood._ They’d probably get very good at alerting each other to that on their own.

 _“I understand, Sara.”_ There was a pause. _“If it helps, I am unable to detect any biological hazards that would make coupling a concern, though Dr. T’Perro would be able to provide a more detailed analysis on the topic.”_

_“You really know how to stoke the fires of romance…”_

_“Is that intended to be a joke, Sara?”_

_“Yes it was.”_ Sara paused. _“I appreciate the concern, but I’m not ready to discuss my romantic activity with Lexi just yet—and about that—you are moving **way** faster than we are. Let’s slow down, okay? We’re not rushing anything.”_ It was actually slightly irritating, having SAM unintentionally goad her into topics that she hadn’t even had time to process and explore on her own yet. _“When it comes to this, unless something is really threatening my life or I ask you for your input this is something I want to do on my own…”_ The strangest part of all this is that she actually worried for a split second that she would offend SAM, feeling embarrassed to even discuss this at all, before remembering that SAM literally didn't have the capability to be offended.

 _He’s fulfilling his function… of protecting me, if that’s what you want to call it. He’s trying to help…_ Admitting that to herself was great and all, and it helped tamp down the anxiety just a tad, but it still didn’t instill any desire to continue the conversation further. At least not now, while she was still lying in Jaal’s bed.

 _“I will remain an observer during these activities, since I will be learning while you experience them.”_ Sara swore that could almost be a threat, even though she knew that SAM didn’t have the capacity to mean it that way. _“Should I detect anything of concern, I will tell you when the timing is appropriate.”_ It was still just a little bit disconcerting to know that there was an AI constantly watching, and monitoring you while you did stuff with your boyfriend…

 _Boyfriend._ That was a term she never thought she’d be so pleased to use again. _Shit… is that really what he was now?_

It definitely felt like it when Jaal’s very open and adoring expression greeted her when she finally emerged from his bedroom about half an hour later, her discussion with SAM immediately forgotten for the time being. He was sitting in the common room they’d passed through the night before, but this time he was not alone. Sara immediately recognized Lathoul sitting on a long chair across from him, who peered at her with cautious interest when they both fell silent. They appeared to have been in the middle of conversation, stopping only when Sara had paused mid-stride out of his doorway not expecting to see anyone else in the room.

“Darling one!” Jaal stood immediately at her presence and closed the space between them as if he couldn’t get to her fast enough. Without hesitating—Sara supposed, they’d already progressed past that point blindingly fast—he had her face in his hands and was meeting her forehead with his in greeting. This was apparently a thing for angara, as she’d already seen it and experienced it several times. She returned the gesture, enjoying the new term of endearment for her that he’d first used the night before. She’d need to think of something similarly sweet to call him. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Sara responded, her hands sliding down to rest on his arms. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but where is everyone? I was worried I’d slept in too long.” She would have expected more angara to be around, but the room felt practically empty with just Jaal and Lathoul in it.

“You didn’t.” Jaal gave the room only a cursory glance before his eyes traveled back to Sara’s, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders, covering them entirely. “Morning meals are typically spent with your true parents and siblings. It is customary for angara to begin the day with those you begin your life with.” Jaal gave her a small peck on the mouth then, and immediately Sara felt warm: from the blush that had her feeling both loved, and a little bit embarrassed that Lathoul was still in the room appearing as if he wanted to disappear.

Curiously, Jaal went still for a moment as a hesitant look crept across his face once he’d pulled away. When his eyes dipped down towards her lips—a quick enough action that she could have missed had his eyes not been like a magnet to her from the moment they met—Sara realized that he was silently asking her a question: he _seemed_ to be asking her if that was alright, and if giving her just that small kiss had been welcome and not overstepping a boundary that she hadn’t even set yet.

Without words, Sara gave him a small peck of her own, pressing her lips to his with a gentle quickness that she hoped conveyed enough of an answer for him to know that he _was_ welcome. It appeared to have the right effect, the soft little smile that ghosted across his lips imparting relief as his eyes went a bit cutely cross-eyed. She could get used to this...

Yet, the weight of the words he’d just spoken gave Sara mental pause. She didn’t know if he’d actually meant it, but he seemed to be implying that he saw her this way: as a beginning of sorts. The fact that he hadn’t spoken in the past tense seemed to make that clear, along with the way he was now smoothing his palm along her cheek, his eyes clear and focused. Maybe, she felt that way too. This certainly felt like the start of something new...

What could she do, other than smile goofily at him? She had no idea how to cope with this kind of attention, like he hadn’t seen her for days, but she couldn’t get enough of it. To someone else, it could have been too much: overwhelming and maybe even a bit smothering enough to be a deal-breaker, but Sara _needed_ it. With everything riding on her shoulders, she needed to be able to just get lost in something for herself every once in awhile, yet, she had no doubt that he would pull away and give her space if she needed it.

“I was just leaving—” Lathoul said abruptly, standing from the seat he had been occupying. Sara had completely forgotten he was still there, becoming so focused on Jaal that it was almost like the rest of the world had completely blacked out. _Damn, he was going to be even more distracting than before._

With her wits back, Sara finally eased away enough to pay attention to the other person they shared the room with. She was glad to see that he’d recovered well, and if she hadn’t known any better she’d say that he’d never even been shot.

“I wanted to thank you hu—” Lathoul gave her a stiff nod, pausing as if he didn’t quite know what to refer to her as but she suspected he’d been about to say _human._ It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time, to the extent that she’d kind of gotten numb to it, even when it was meant as a pejorative. “—Sara Ryder.” She was certain Lathoul wouldn’t have meant it that way, considering how quickly he’d corrected his course.

“Just Sara is fine,” she soothed, only vaguely aware that Jaal’s hand was on the back of her neck now that he’d stepped away. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

A blue flush seemed to creep up Lathoul’s neck as his eyes darted. Was he… nervous around her? She supposed they had initially met under less than ideal circumstances, and then he’d been shot and hovering at the edge of consciousness for the remainder of their time together. Now Jaal was bringing her home and kissing her on the mouth and holding the back of her neck with what she could only describe as a warm, fuzzy tingle of energy that was slowly creeping down her spine. Case in point, he must have been wildly confused.

Though, he’d been kind enough to help Sahuna provide basic comforts for her, and that sure made Sara feel something precious for him. He didn’t seem disgusted, or aggravated by Jaal’s very public display of affection for her—a thing of which Sara knew she was going to be experiencing a lot of from here on out. Although that was sweetly thrilling to anticipate, she knew there would probably need to be a quick discussion on times of appropriateness considering she was still Pathfinder—but rather uncertain about his presence there.

“Also, thank you for getting all that stuff in Pelaav. That was very kind of you.” Lathoul looked down, and Sara was happy to see that she’d finally pulled a small smile out him. He nodded to her, his way of accepting her thanks, and then turned to leave the room through a separate hallway she hadn’t traveled through yet.

After a moment, Jaal turned to her, and there was a strange, knowing smile on his face.

“I believe that my brother is smitten with you.”

“What?” Sara turned to him with a start, unsure what sort of response he expected from her. “Why would you think that?”

“He was rather keen to ask me questions about you. That is what we were discussing when you walked in. I believe he is curious.” There wasn’t a trace of disapproval on Jaal’s face, so Sara thought that his reason for telling her was out of amusement. Or perhaps, he felt she had the right to know his suspicions. “I believe that meeting you under the circumstances that he did, he may feel indebted to you. He wants to know more about the alien who was with his brother.” He started leading her down the same hallways they passed the night before, his hand still on her neck, and Sara allowed him to guide her. The soft little tingle down her spine was something she actually found herself chasing, and she vowed to ask Jaal about it later. It was possible he didn’t even know he was doing it.

“I don’t want him to feel like he owes me something.” Sara frowned, wondering if she should feel guilty now. After all, _she_ was the alien they had joined the Roekaar to oppose in the first place, hence requiring their intervention and ultimately putting Lathoul in a position to get shot. “I did it because it was your family and it was the right thing to do.” If anything he should be holding a grudge. He’d nearly been killed after all.

“Darling, you think too carefully about this.” Jaal’s arm slid around her shoulders to pull her against him, and he kissed her temple. “Lathoul is young. It is natural for him to be curious considering the profound situation he was in when meeting you.” Sara leaned into him, taking comfort in the low, gentle rumble that she could feel coming from Jaal’s body against her cheek. “My mother has prepared a meal in the solarium, and I would like you to join us.”

Sara couldn’t help but look at him, the discussion about Lathoul completely dropped as a number of worries crept into her brain. It must have shown on her face, because when Jaal glanced at her he actually chuckled, as if the very real culture shock she was experiencing was amusing.

“It is real food. Not nutrient paste. And it will only be Sahuna and my true siblings with their partners and children, so you can start off slow.” Jaal gave her a wry look, as if he knew her next response would likely be something to the effect of _you call that a slow start?_

“After, I had thought you would like to accompany me back to the Forge. It might interest you to see it when it is not filled with Roekaar and gunfire.” His eyes had a glimmer of hopefulness to them, and maybe, just a little bit of hesitation as if he expected her to find such an idea boring. That was preposterous, of course. She was thrilled to check out a place that was sacred to the angara, and was actually quite touched that Jaal found it a fitting place to take her on what was arguably their first day as a couple.

“I’d love to,” Sara said wistfully. Jaal’s pleased smile was enough to make her melt. “I’ll join you in a minute.” She slid out of his embrace and couldn’t resist gently patting him on the chest as she turned to walk away. If he had reacted any particular way, Sara didn’t see it, as she was too focused on getting to her intended destination.

Before joining Jaal back in the solarium where she suspected there would now be a crowd, Sara took a detour to one of the bathrooms, or rather, what the angara equivalent to one was. She’d been shown where it was the night before: a smaller, separate structure that one had to leave the main house and go down a small, well cared-for path to get to. It more or less had the same function and layout as she was used to, but there was a greater sense of tranquility to the room to suggest that the activities that occurred within were meant to be done in quiet comfort; a reflection of oneself, if anyone wanted to get weirdly poetic about lavatories.

With natural lighting, it had almost an almost organic feel to the materials that had been used to build it, somehow blending in with the natural flora around it that one could easily mistake it for a part of a garden. It had a spacious section for bathing—a deep, wide pool of water that appeared to be fed by a constantly running natural spring that had been diverted via clever engineering. There must have been a drainage system under there somewhere that Sara was curious to investigate if she had time later—with a separate, secluded area for egestion that was a bit smaller, but the whole thing put all other bathrooms she’d ever used to shame. Clearly, humans, and really everyone else in the Milky Way, had been doing something wrong this whole time.

Though given how much Jaal seemed to care for his cleanliness and appearance, it almost being a ritualistic routine for him, this appeared to be very much the norm. Angara clearly valued what one could almost consider purification; self care and maintenance of one’s self to encourage inner peace and clarity. Jaal must have been _miserable_ on the Tempest with all those cramped, highly public spaces, and considering what he was likely used to she couldn’t really blame him.

Sara almost didn’t want to leave. It was so quiet and peaceful with the soft gurgling of the water trickling into the bathing area, that Sara could see herself begging to use it if they would let her. After taking care of her own business, cleaning her teeth and arranging her hair into something more kept, the growl of her stomach persuaded her to finally make her way back into the house and face the awkward social situation that was going to follow. She found her way back to the solarium easily enough (one just had to follow the cacophony of voices), and after somewhat rushed introductions to everyone in the room—which really consisted of Jaal bellowing, rather too proudly Sara thought, _“Everyone, this is Sara!”_ followed by her turning very, very red and everyone in the room introducing themselves to her nearly at once—Sahuna steered her over to a chair and sat her down next to Jaal.

What immediately stood out, was the empty chair next to Sahuna, one she imagined Jaal’s father was supposed to fill.

When Jaal had first started opening up to Sara on the Tempest, they’d had one conversation during an evening alone that had stuck with her for a while. It had started off with the intent of him showing her how he typically maintained and modified his rifle, but he’d patiently fielded questions from her that weeks before he would have probably deemed too personal and would have shut the conversation down. Sara hadn’t necessarily meant to at the time, but she’d somehow pressed Jaal into talking about the family he’d lost to the kett. She’d privately found it odd that Jaal had spoken of his father’s disappearance and presumed death so frankly. He was similarly numb when he spoke of his first love, and his brother, and what had happened to them as well, though she chocked it up to him having the benefit of time to move on.

Over time, and after spending more time with the angara, Sara came to realize rather sadly, that this was a rather frequent reality for them. At any point, on any day, someone you cared about could simply disappear and you would never see them again. When it was part of your very existence every day of your life, one had to find ways to cope with something so constant. While the angara were a very expressive species, Sara found that whenever they spoke of death or injury, they tended to lose a bit of their emotional exuberance. It wasn’t just that Jaal had lost his family so long ago and had time to heal, that was simply how angara spoke about their losses to strangers.

Even knowing that, Jaal had still seemed more walled up than other angara she had come across, like he had built significantly more fortifications around his emotions concerning his losses. This was a _Jaal_ quirk, dialing up his angaraness to 11, she had concluded.

Maybe, eventually, Jaal would open up to her about that sort of pain in the future, but that was up to him. Even during their first conversation about it, Sara had nearly tumbled into a snide remark about how callously _Allia_ had treated him—shacking up with his brother, marrying him, and actually coming to _live_ in their family home to be a constant reminder of what had happened—until Jaal very quickly added that they too had been taken by the kett. At that point, Sara had realized it probably wasn’t appropriate to speak ill of the dead, so she’d kept her thoughts about Allia to herself. Jaal had seamlessly shifted the conversation back to his rifle at that point, so Sara left it alone.

The empty chairs around the table brought this conversation back to her mind. They could have removed the chairs, but instead the angara left them. It was probably meant to be a reminder that there would always be someone who was meant to be sitting there, and while Jaal’s family in the room behaved around them as if nothing was missing, they would never be truly gone.

Sara didn’t really have a lot of time to continue ruminating on this angaran cultural fact, because as soon as she sat down it felt as if a swell of voices hit her all at once. Jaal’s other siblings were very kind, and if her stunned, open-mouthed expression when she’d walked into the solarium made any sort of particular impression on them they didn’t share it. They would alternate between asking her questions about herself, and talking amongst themselves in rapid, boisterous tones. Sara was content to sit back and watch them interact in silence, most especially the way Jaal settled into a very hurried, sing-song method of speaking. The tones of his voice lifted and flowed starkly in contrast to the way he normally spoke on the ship, and even to her in most cases still: slower and more deliberate, like he was choosing his words very carefully with every interaction. He gesticulated far more here then he did on the Tempest, although he’d been slowly becoming more physically expressive overtime. These were probably just lingering remnants of Jaal’s more guarded nature from when he first arrived.

It was a fascinating anthropological study to observe, even moreso interesting due to the fact that she was unable to _understand_ anything they said. They’d apparently slipped out of Shalesh to speak in the native Havarl dialect, occasionally switching briefly back for a beat or two only to tumble right back out of it. Sara suspected they were asking Jaal about his recent activities; every now and then she’d catch what sounded suspiciously like her name, definitely heard the word “Tempest” and what could have been “Initiative” but the syllables were a bit mispronounced to her ears.

_“Sara, I can use examples from local audio and literary sources, to cross-reference with Shalesh in order to encode Havarl translation protocols for your Omni-tool…”_

_“Do it later, SAM. I want to hear this.”_

They didn’t ignore her, but Sara was completely content to just watch, while she maneuvered her way around the food she didn’t recognize. It wasn’t nutrient paste, but it was food that didn’t resemble anything she’d seen in the Tavetaan on Aya: some sort of large, steamed leaves filled with what might have been minced meat or nuts of some kind. It was more savory than sweet, but it reminded her of certain dishes from Earth that employed banana leaves to the same effect. Jaal had needed to show her how to unwrap the leaves, much to her embarrassment and the delight of his siblings who watched him literally attempt to feed her as if it was the most enthralling thing in the world. The rest of the food was mercifully straightforward and didn’t require any further intervention on Jaal’s part: sliced quilloa, and some sort of coarse grain that helped offset the softer texture of the leaf mixture. A quick check with SAM confirmed she could ingest all of it safely, so she’d eaten without needing to worry it would kill her somehow.

The same little angaran boy—Paxeel. She definitely remembered his name—that had startled her the night before by coming out of nowhere and nearly jumping onto her lap was sitting next to her, by some fated circumstance. He kept trying to give her pieces of fruit from his little bowl, and Sara had to find increasingly sneaky ways to put it back so that the child wouldn’t notice. Eventually his mother intervened, and gently chided him before taking the bowl away to feed him herself, piece by piece.

“I am sorry. He has not seen an alien before.” Sara remembered that Jaal had said his sister’s name was Koana the night before. “Please don’t be afraid to say he is bothering you.” She said, completely unfazed to offer Sara this courtesy despite her very real intrusion into their space.

“He’s not bothering me.” Sara suddenly felt very aware of her presence at the table, small and completely out-of-place, and also very aware of the weird responsibility Jaal’s sister had inadvertently imparted upon her.

This little child did not know the kett. He’d never seen the kett, or experienced their atrocities first-hand, at least to the extent that he could retain and remember. He knew nothing of the war that was raging outside of this house, but he likely would become acquainted with it very soon. This made Sara his first contact, his childish wonder manifesting as a clingy, curious, fascination. He probably didn’t comprehend to what extent she _really_ differed from all the family he’d spent his life with up to this point, so she was just a curious novelty. Would this child’s impression of her change once he learned of what the kett had done to his people; his family? Would her actions influence him in any way?

She was the human Pathfinder, already a representative for her species, as well as unintentionally becoming an ambassador for the Initiative as a whole. The asari and salarian Pathfinders had joined the fold, but Sara had the advantage of having more time and exposure, so her actions (and reactions) would naturally resonate further with the natives of Heleus. Sara had thought about it in passing before—she’d never been blind to this fact—but it hadn’t quite hit her with the same amount of focus as it did now. Perhaps it being Jaal’s family and an internalized need to please them was what made her feel so strongly about how one angaran baby would remember her once he got older.

Sara didn’t mean for it to, but these thoughts certainly impacted her behavior for the rest of the meal as she redirected her attention solely on her food, and the coffee Sahuna had prepared just for her. That almost made Sara feel strangely worse. It was like they’d just accepted her into the family and what little inconveniences she might pose without question, alien or not, because none of that actually mattered.

Nobody at the table noticed her change in behavior, thankfully, except for Jaal— _of course_ —who was quick to check up on her by the time breakfast was done and he was leading her out of the solarium.

“Something has made you uncomfortable.” Jaal said quietly as they stopped in the entryway, and away from the crowd of his family that left the solarium with them to continue off to the next phase of their morning routines. “I am happy to speak to my family if something has offended you—”

“—No, Jaal.” Sara was quick to set him straight, not wanting to give off the wrong impression. The obviously worried look on his face was a clear indication that he feared he’d done something wrong, or already messed something up past the point of fixing. It would have almost been endearing, had Sara not already been feeling at odds with her own feelings. “Nobody offended me, everyone was wonderful. It’s not that. I was thinking about something.” She tried to wave him off, but true to expectation Jaal was not going to let it go.

There was going to be no more evasiveness or avoiding confrontation with this one, especially now. That was going to take some adjustment on Sara’s part. Having a father like she did, she hadn’t really been given a lot of great examples growing up of what healthy adult communication was supposed to look like in relationships. Getting to the core of other people's problems was, well, no problem. But getting to the core of _her_ problems and openly talking about them was a whole other deal. That was something she was going to have to work on changing. She just hoped that Jaal had an endless amount of patience.

“I suppose I should tell you,” Sara said quietly, though Jaal’s lack of response seemed to infer that he wanted her to continue but was not going to push it. She supposed, he had some anticipation of what he was getting into choosing to pursue a relationship with a human considering whom he’d been spending most of his time with on the ship.

“Your family has been very welcoming… but it occurred to me that there’s a lot riding on what sort of impression I make.” Sara paused, wondering how to continue. “I’m an alien here, Jaal. Your people haven’t exactly had a good history with aliens coming into Heleus and I feel very aware of that.” She paused, wondering exactly how Jaal would take this sort of discussion, but he only nodded silently.

“My family does not think of you as an alien. They will love you as I love you.” He finally said seamlessly. Sara wondered, if he’d used those words intentionally.

“That may be, and maybe I’ve already done enough to earn that. But there may be younger members of your family who don’t have the benefit of experience, so what I do or say can have a huge impact on how they see the world…” Sara managed to look at him, feeling kind of stupid for even bringing this to Jaal’s attention in the first place, but she was surprised to see an understanding smile on his face.

“They will come to know you as I have,” he shifted closer, somehow managing to feel larger against her. “As the compassionate, strong and brave woman who’s decided to tolerate me…”

“Well, let’s not get carried away,” Sara managed a smirk, grateful for Jaal’s instincts to lighten the content of their discussion. His hand resting against her waist as if to pull her closer somehow managed to make her feel even more devious. “I could still throw you off my ship and send you back to Evfra,” she sniffed, not at all resisting his pull.

“You wouldn’t dare—” For the first time Sara saw something very mysterious in Jaal’s eyes as he seemed to be angling for a kiss, until the abrupt call of Sahuna from behind him made Sara nearly leap out of her skin and pull away. Jaal looked annoyed for a split-second, given that his mother had just intruded on their space, but he quickly rearranged his face to something more neutral as soon as his mother rounded on them.

“You two! If you will be out all day, you must return before sundown. There are heavy storms approaching and I wouldn’t want you to get stuck.” Sahuna paused, appearing thoughtful for a moment. “Although, there are plenty of secluded caverns in the rock at the Forge you could find some privacy in—”

“— _Mother._ ” 

Jaal seemed to process what exactly his mother was getting at before Sara realized what she’d said, and she couldn’t help but bark out an embarrassed laugh. Jaal’s very annoyed expression was probably about the funniest thing she’d seen thus far, given how open angara supposedly were with their affections. Sara could only suspect that still didn’t mean they would openly flaunt their romances in front of their parents.

As soon as Sahuna caught her son’s expression she made a motion that looked as if she was rolling her eyes. “Oh please, I too was young once,” Sahuna chirped as she walked away, a small knowing smile on her lips as she left Sara and Jaal alone in the foyer. A calm, quiet settled over them, neither really knowing how to respond after Sahuna’s intimations.

Sara knew that she wouldn’t mind that, and she kind of got the hint that neither would Jaal, although they’d sort of come to the unspoken agreement that they would take things slow. Of course Sara was happy with that—it would be a fun little adventure, but it didn’t stop the small bit of warmth from settling in her stomach from such a thought.

Why though, was she diving into this so quickly and so enthusiastically, when she’d never really been the type to rush through relationships before? She would have never expected that one of the things in store for her millions of light years away was a whirlwind romance, but there was something different about Jaal that had her immediately falling into his orbit. Her previous relationships, few as they were, had all come and gone at a pretty standard pace—all human. Was it his alienness that had her enthralled? She’d had a number of crushes on turians before but had never had the nerve to pursue anything—but this was truly overwhelming. Perhaps her body and emotions were catching up on 600 plus years of nothing, although Sara knew that was categorically absurd. Yet, she couldn’t deny that she was feeling more complete for the first time since her long freeze.

Sara’s mother had died long ago, so she’d had enough time to process her grief. Alec was a slightly different story. Her relationship with her father had never been the warmest, and although she mourned him, he’d more or less been missing from her life for some time if not physically, but emotionally. Scott was still in a coma, and she felt his absence every second of every day. Yet, _something_ felt full now and she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. Maybe it was something she’d never even known was missing, a piece of her maybe that she’d needed to travel to a completely new galaxy to finally find.

Sara had never believed in a soulmate before, but when Jaal finally looked at her with a bashful grin on his face, hand outstretched to meet hers, she began to wonder if maybe she had all along; all it took was leaving the Milky Way to find it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to wrap-up Havarl in this chapter, but it started to get away from me in length again so that's finally happening next chapter.
> 
> It's also been a really long time since I've finished the game at this point, so inaccuracies may be a bit more apparent going forward. Since I've already deviated quite a bit from the game's story already it may not matter too much since my original intent was to sort of add my own flare to it anyway. 
> 
> Spoiler alert: Maybe, just maybe, a bit in the future, things might happen in that very bathing pool...


	9. Those Sneaky Interventions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sahuna is not subtle about what she suspects her son and Sara are going to get up to that day, but it allows them to open up a dialogue about their expectations with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is LONG... sorry it kind of got away from me, and I wanted to more or less wrap up their time on Havarl in one sitting, so I packed it all in here. I'm still trying to decide on how consistent I want to be with chapter lengths, as these started off much shorter and sort of evolved into much longer chapters as I got deeper into it. 
> 
> Shouts out to anyone else heartbroken that EA/Bioware have shelved ME:A... so no story DLC or closure really. I actually got really bummed and depressed for a little while, and to tell you the truth it's made it hard for me to muster any desire to go back and play the game, even though there's this pull I can't really describe. Seems like it ended on a sour note for me. I really disliked the final battle and feel like they didn't make much of an effort to do something new and memorable. As much as I loved the characters (obviously) and a lot of the ideas and threads they introduced (hence why I'm even here) the game itself really needed some more work. Story-wise, I was really hoping they'd give us something to get excited about in DLC, much like the CItadel DLC did after the ME3 ending debacle. But sadly, that's not going to be the case it seems...
> 
> They mentioned expanding stuff in other media.. but that won't be RYDER'S story... so, I guess that's what I'm going to do here. I've got lots of plans and ideas for expansion and stuff outside of the core story we were given, so, here's hoping I manage to actually keep the momentum to get to them. I'd really like to, and deep down I just want to play more ME all day, every day. I may need some intervention.. ;;^^
> 
> And thank you to everyone who has left such lovely comments so far. I really appreciate it!

After Sahuna left her son flustered with Sara in the atrium, it took Jaal several beats to finally gather his wits again before he motioned for her to follow him. It suddenly dawned on Sara then that his mother clearly knew what had transpired between her and Jaal the night before, and was making some pretty obvious intimations about what she suspected they would be getting up to that day. Even though she didn’t suggest anything outright, she hadn’t exactly been subtle about it.

So, Jaal must have spoken to his mother about his feelings for her either after Sara had fallen asleep, or he’d been confiding in Sahuna for some time. There were certainly a lot of things that were starting to make sense regarding Jaal’s behavior towards her the last several weeks, seeming to amplify after what had happened with Akksul. Sara had obviously figured out after he had kissed her that she hadn’t been misreading him—his feelings for her couldn’t have come out of nowhere, as Sara’s hadn’t either—but now she was insanely curious to know if _Sahuna_ had known prior to all this.

Perhaps Jaal’s entire intent on bringing her here to his home, to meet his _mother_ , was for this very purpose: an overture of romantic intentions. Maybe it was an angara thing—how they courted—but to Sara the intent wasn’t lost in translation despite some very real cultural differences between them. She suspected though that it had taken some additional encouragement from his mother to finally make the first move. After all, he’d picked a very specific time after an evening with all of them together to come out and ask her.

It was fine really, maybe even a little bit endearing to think that Jaal had been conspiring with Sahuna to figure out how to confess his feelings to her. They were clearly close, and not just in an angaran sense, so it was normal for Sara to assume that he would seek her advice even if her own parental experiences hadn’t exactly been the same. She would have never _dreamed_ of approaching either of her parents for advice about love, and while her mother would have done her best to try and help with what little time she had, Alec would have avoided having the conversation altogether.

Sara didn’t want to assume that she was _that_ important, to be a focus of mother and son’s attention, especially considering the fact that it seemed Jaal had been away on Aya for some time. But, given that Sahuna had been doting on her all morning during breakfast just a _little bit harder_ since the night before, it was more than a little suspicious.

It was all very… sweet, like a young boy approaching a crush at his mother’s encouragement. Sara’s heart pounded at just the thought. The hazy look in his eyes when she’d been with his nephew hadn’t slipped past her attention either, but she’d revisit _that_ detail later. There were no doubts that Jaal would have visited his family on his own had Sara preferred to finish recuperating on the Nexus, but she couldn’t shake the thought that this all seemed very engineered to somehow win her heart.

Well, it had worked. It was still strange, and thrilling to think that despite being born galaxies apart (and centuries...technically), she was able to make those connections and respond in kind. 

Moments later after being lost in these internal musings, it was quickly becoming apparent that the layout of the Ama Darav home was more than just the single building Sara had been in so far. Jaal led her back towards his bedroom, but continued through the common room where a number of the family members she had just eaten breakfast with were lounging and discussing their plans for that day. They regarded them with warm greetings as they passed through the hallway Lathoul had disappeared down earlier, which was a part of the home Sara hadn’t seen yet. She wondered just how many hallways and connected living spaces there were in what already seemed to be a complex network of buildings; separate dwellings for different parts of the family perhaps, but that was just a guess from what she could see outside the windows that looked out at the compound-like layout of the residence. 

Sara promised herself to ask Jaal more about it later, but she’d become too distracted by the strange mixture of organic decor and tech that made up the structure of the hallway: manufactured wall sheets and piping, but offset with bundled vine-like roping and delicate thatchwork that sort of reminded her of tatami mats from earth. Jaal’s room had seemed more utilitarian in terms of it’s architecture, and while she hadn’t had as much time to study the nature of the common room, the hallway seemed to have the same natural design notes as the bathroom and the solarium. From what Sara remembered of Aya, there appeared to be a trend with the angara to keep their dwellings purposeful, but also very much in sync with the natural world around them. So, it didn’t appear to be unique to Havarl. 

It was a far cry different from the mass-produced, pre-fab nature of a lot of the homes Sara remembered on the Citadel and some of the colony worlds she had spent time on. _This_ , was something she could see herself really coming home to, because it felt warm and inviting. Not that her previous homes hadn’t felt that way at the time, as home is what you make it to be, but the intent here was different. 

Natural light filtered through a number of open fixtures on the ceiling that bathed the hallway in a mix of shadows and cool, bright blue. Sara was too busy staring up at the light to notice that Jaal had stopped just outside another door. She nearly ran into him before managing to stop just shy of catching herself on his arm. 

Jaal didn’t comment or seem to notice Sara’s momentary lack of grace, but he gave her a soft look of something indiscernible as he gestured for her to follow him in. It was another bedroom, that part was immediately apparent, though to whom it belonged to she couldn’t begin to guess. It was obvious however, that this was probably where Jaal had slept the night before. His rofjinn was folded carefully on top of a chair at the end of the bed, and she recognized the travel pack he had brought with him sitting just below it. 

“Did you sleep here last night?” Even though she’d already put that together in her head, it felt necessary to ask him. Sara did kick him out of his own room, after all. That hadn’t been intentional, but she remembered being too sleepy to be of mind enough to put forth any protest when she woke to find Jaal carrying her to his bed. She sort of suspected that Jaal would have scoffed at her insistence she sleep anywhere else, even if she hadn’t been half-asleep and too groggy the night before to actually bring it up. 

“Yes. This room is one of my older sister’s. She is currently on Voeld, so she won’t mind.” Jaal said, as he began rummaging around in his travel pack. “I _hope_ ,” he added, almost as an afterthought. 

“You know you can sleep in your own bed,” Sara said as she looked around, feeling a little bit lost standing in the middle of the room. She sensed Jaal pause in his movements at the same time she felt a _shift_ in the air around her, and it was then that she realized what exactly she’d just implied. “I didn’t necessarily mean _with me_ …” she quickly added with a laugh, trying to save face, though she could already feel the oncoming blush beginning to stain her cheeks. “I’m perfectly happy sleeping on the floor. Did that a lot during expedition digs…” Sara thought, she was over-explaining it, feeling her face turn red as Jaal suddenly turned to her looking something close to flabbergasted. 

“No! That would be incredibly impolite—” his expression shifted into what Sara could only describe as the slyest of grins. “—to make you sleep on the floor _alone_ …” 

“You’re trying to be subtle. That’s adorable, Jaal.” Sara couldn’t help but wonder if the two of them would even fit in his bed, though she certainly didn’t mind the prospect of finding out. 

“Angara do not know the meaning of subtle,” Jaal said with a chuckle, although it came out as more of a rumble from somewhere deep in his throat. He looked away from her then, _maybe_ trying to hide the beginnings of his own blush before finally retrieving what he must have been looking for in his pack—a decently sized ornate dagger, a _firaan_ Sara observed—and laced it to his hip. “Although…” When he straightened, he suddenly looked troubled as he stepped towards her, and it was enough to make Sara’s breath catch in her throat a little. 

This was going to take some getting used too. Jaal had to have been at least a foot taller than her, and while his size was no longer intimidating to her—perhaps, when they had first met, it had been a _little_ bit off-putting to try and be in command around such a newcomer when it was clear he could overpower her without a second thought—he still stood over her enough to feel _just right_. 

Sara had needed to get used to the fact pretty quickly that in one-on-one interaction the angara concept of personal space was very different than a human’s. Naturally, when Jaal tended to stand very close to her early on, Sara had trained herself to not pay too close attention to it. Over time, as with many things when it came to him, it had become increasingly more apparent that the motive behind it was more than just being angara. It was more intimate, especially now: in the way he’d shift his body towards her or angle his head differently, seeming to non-verbally suggest a desire to actually, physically touch. Now, in such a close setting, it really was entirely new. 

He reached for her then, his hand brushing against her waist as if seeking a connection: another example of the shift now, somewhat tentative but wanting. 

“...It occurred to me… that perhaps, before we arrived, I was not clear in my affection for you?” 

It took Sara a moment to realize what exactly to say to that, as it had been something that had been going through her mind for some time. She’d spent a _lot_ of time, in fact, debating with herself whether or not Jaal actually was interested in her as more than a friend. Clearly, that had been answered the night before, but she would have never thought that Jaal would have picked up on her uncertainty. 

“No, you were.” She said quickly, to dissuade any immediate notion that she hadn’t seen the signs sooner. “But… I didn’t want to assume what it meant. I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just because you… trusted me more, I guess?” Sara rubbed at her forehead, fumbling with how to phrase what was going on in her mind. “It didn’t help that I was already thinking about you, a _lot_ , and if I’d just assumed something stupid when it was merely a cultural thing for you, that would have been awkward.” 

Instead of looking surprised, or perhaps even a bit disappointed, it startled Sara to see that Jaal looked rather… smug. 

“You were thinking about me?” If the small, knowing quirk of his lips wasn’t bad enough, the slight widening of his pupils suddenly had Sara’s heart racing. Her answer excited him, and he was teasing her about it. 

“Stop, you’re making me blush!” Sara tried to cover her face with her hands, ducking her head in shy embarrassment when Jaal’s hand slid around her waist to pull her against him. She didn’t protest—why would she?—and managed to sling her arms part of the way around his neck to return the embrace she now found herself in. 

“I can tell.” Jaal’s voice was low and playfully mocking, his head ducked down to the space near Sara’s ear. She was able to get a nice, long whiff of his lotions from such close proximity: sweetly musky, with something that almost smelled like vanilla. It made her head swim with a dizzying affection as she planted her face against his chest wanting to hide. Really, she had to admit to herself that she rather liked surrounding herself with his scent and the faint aura that she could only assume was his bioelectricity. It was like a warm, fuzzy tingle that wrapped around them akin to a blanket, like he was somehow _everywhere_ , and if this is what she could feel as a human she could only imagine what it would have felt like to an angara. 

“That’s not fair,” Sara muttered into his chest, remembering the time she’d said something similar to Jaal in a rather flirtatious fashion; he was getting back at her now, for daring to point out sarcastically that she couldn’t tell if he was blushing or not. Though that had largely been a joke to his detriment at the time. Since then Sara had learned to recognize what it really looked like when he blushed: a slightly blue flush would tint the high points of his cheeks and the column of his throat, and while she couldn’t be sure, it seemed as if the air around him would shift a little bit differently like he was radiating more heat than usual. 

Though the coloring effect on Jaal was a little bit more subtle if you weren’t looking for it, Sara thought that comparatively when she blushed red she may as well have had a blinking light strapped to her forehead to _really_ get the message across. Jaal had certainly figured it out very quickly. 

Thinking it silly, but simultaneously wonderful that volleying these little digs at one another actually felt pretty nice, Sara’s immediate embarrassment ebbed away. She let her hands slide down past his shoulders to rest against his front, uprooting her face from where she’d tried to bury it in the curvature of his chest. Out of his armor and in just civilian clothes she could get a better feel for the way his body differed from hers—all the dips and curves of musculature and structure that made him alien, but fascinating… and maybe pretty damn alluring if she was being honest with herself. Sara remembered, that she’d seen him naked once before already, long before they’d really established anything more than a professional relationship at best, but the memory still made a flare of heat creep up her neck. 

With nothing left to the imagination (though really, even his armor didn’t do much to hide his physique either), she could recall exactly how he was put together, perhaps seeing more than had been necessary at the time. Modesty was clearly not an angaran trait, though to Jaal’s credit he hadn’t made a habit of walking around the Tempest naked, so that incident had clearly been a special occasion. Sara had sent Liam a rather passive aggressive message after that, knowing him to be the instigator for it, and sensing he’d done it to see her reaction after she’d already hinted that she found their new guest easy on the eyes. Although now, she thought it was probably okay to thank Liam privately in her own head for his terrible judgment, because she certainly benefited from it. It definitely heightened the experience of having her hands on him now… though Sara was content to leave any additional undressing for when the time was right. 

For now, this felt nice. Just this closeness. 

Even nicer, was the simple way Jaal looked at her with such affection now. His expression was so open and honest, that there was no question as to what his thoughts were. _This_ was angaran affection, so clear and unambiguous, even if it was just a simple look in his eyes that told her how much she must have meant to him. Sara had never quite faced this before, and she could only hope that whatever was in her heart was translating to him just as easily. 

Their interlocked gaze turned into faces nearly touching, Jaal tipping forward while his breath ghosted across her face as a gentle warmth. Sara thought she could feel the tug of his energy pull her in as their lips finally touched, like she was magnetized, and a warm tingle rippled up her spine as she felt his hands splay against the small of her back. It was like his current traveled from the space of his hand to where their mouths met, closing a circuit, and it made her shudder as he deepened the kiss. This was really their first true moment alone since the night before, closed off again from prying eyes, and suddenly what Sahuna had implied earlier didn’t seem like such an absurdity now. 

It may have only lasted a minute or two, but the pounding in Sara’s ears closed off the outside world and made it feel like an eternity; an eternity of Jaal’s hand braced at the back of her neck now, cradling her against him while their mouths opened to each other in a tender dance of tongues and breath. He tasted like a storm— _how_ Sara knew that she had no idea, but that certainly felt like the right words to describe him. She was only barely aware of being pressed flush against him, his other hand hovering precariously close to the edge of her backside; only just slightly more aware that if that hand slid just a little further down she wouldn’t stop him. Sliding her own hands southwards didn’t seem like such a daunting task either… 

Jaal pulled away first with a soft noise in his throat, looking a bit outside of himself as he pressed his forehead to hers with a resolute sigh. Sara thought about saying something, but was struggling to put any sort of words together as she wondered just how hard it was going to be to keep their hands off each other once they returned to the real world. 

“As much as I’d like to remain here…” The implications weren’t lost on her. Jaal’s voice was heavy and quiet, and Sara could _feel_ each word resonate against her front as he spoke. “...My brothers are waiting to take us into the daar…” 

Sara nodded, swallowing hard as her pulse returned to something resembling normal. She’d probably need to spend some time figuring out why Jaal was getting her so worked up, _so_ quickly, but right now she preferred to bask in the moment. That wasn’t exactly a conversation she particularly looked forward to having with Lexi, or even SAM, but it was probably valuable to find out if there was some sort of weird, alien hormonal interaction happening that was making her so willing to pounce on Jaal immediately. 

Or instead of blaming it on hormones, or some weird biological science there was no precedent for, maybe it was just _them_. Maybe they were just _that_ attracted to each other. It wasn’t like she was rushing to jump the bones of every angara she came across, though she admitted that she found the angaran males to be particularly alluring; it was just Jaal that she felt _this_ strongly about. 

Not that it would change anything… but it would sure be useful to know… for _research_. 

“Yeah…” Sara finally managed, having the strength to untangle herself first. “We should do that.” Along with the other things Sahuna had implied earlier, Sara remembered something about storms later in the day, so that provided something practical to hang on to and pull herself out of her amorous fog. “Can I change first? I slept in these clothes…” 

That seemed to provide the push Jaal needed to fully pull away, seemingly reluctant to take his hands off her, but he nodded in understanding nonetheless. Sara couldn’t stop herself from brushing her hand across his cheek. The wound had healed, leaving nothing but a remnant of a thin line across his face, but it did nothing to steal away the structured softness of him. 

Moments later after Sara had donned some fresh clothes and proper shoes—from what she remembered, the Forge was a bit out of the way, tucked up against sheer mountain cliffs and in the midst of heavy Havarl jungle—she met Jaal back in the common room, and he led her back through the deeper end of the house. They exited through a back entry way into a courtyard, where a shuttle waited. 

Now that she was outside, Sara could get a real sense of the scale of the home; _complex_ seemed like a more appropriate word at this point, each densely packed building’s exterior interconnected by a series of open courtyards and gardens, with a central space for the shuttle they now approached. Sara wondered if Jaal’s family was wealthy, as the size and scope of their home and what they possessed seemed far more than what she’d noticed in other angara settlements. Jaal had once said his family was very respected, so perhaps that also meant that they were more privileged than most. It didn’t seem appropriate to ask that kind of question, not that it changed how she felt, so Sara stuck to observing that sort of detail only. 

As they approached the shuttle, Sara immediately saw Lathoul, who nodded quietly in hello. Another angara stepped out of the shuttle—Sara recognized him as one of Jaal’s true brothers from breakfast—and gave Jaal a healthy, bellowing greeting. 

“Mother prepared this for you,” he said, tossing a pack at Jaal’s chest which he caught in stride. “Trail rations no doubt since you are headed into the jungle, and maybe some things to make your...” It took a bit, but he finally seemed to notice that Sara was standing right there as he trailed off, eyes passing over her in acknowledgment. “...activities easier.” 

“Don’t be rude,” Jaal said rather flatly, and Sara wondered if there was something she was supposed to get that had gotten lost in translation: maybe something she really _ought_ to know. Jaal’s response seemed wrong in context, though as he looked through the pack he made a frustrated noise before forcing it closed and slinging it over his shoulder. 

“Of course not,” his brother replied, forcing Sara to divert her curiosity. She was struggling to remember his name, feeling terrible for it. His skin was a darker fuchsia color than Jaal’s, though they shared a common slope of the brow with the same shockingly blue eyes, but she thought that the slant of Jaal’s was different. He had markings on his forehead similar to the tattoos she had seen on other angara she’d interacted with. “You don’t remember my name. I am Yahvir.” Finally speaking to her, he placed a closed fist against his chest in emphasis, and for a moment Sara felt bad that it had been that obvious that she couldn’t remember. 

“You are much smaller than you appear in the vids.” And just as quickly that small little bit of sympathy was gone. 

“I get that alot. It’s the armor.” Sara said, a little drier than she had intended, but it was a comment she had endured more often than was necessary, especially from angara. In her experience they’d generally never meant offense, but that never stopped them from being blunt with their need to point out. 

“And she can have you knocked out on the ground before you realize what happened,” Jaal added, coming to her defense, and she thought that he sounded a little bit annoyed. “She helped me pull our brothers and sister from the Roekaar without a second thought.” Sara glanced at Lathoul, who took that moment to make himself scarce by climbing into the shuttle behind Yahvir. She frowned, hoping he hadn’t gotten upset. Lathoul seemed unusually shy for an angara. 

“A thing for which, we are all grateful.” Yahvir’s face seemed to soften at this as he glanced behind him at the back of their retreating brother. “But perhaps that scar Akksul gave you has at least made you easier to look at.” 

“And yet, I am still better looking than you,” Jaal said rather frankly, though Sara thought she saw the ghost of a smirk cross his lips before he motioned for her to follow him into the shuttle. Yahvir’s laugh was loud and immediate, and it followed them in as he boarded behind them. 

*** 

The trip to the daar wasn't a particularly long one, but once Yahvir had slipped into the pilot seat of the shuttle and gotten them airborne, Sara was determined to use the time to get Lathoul to talk more than a few sentences to her. Now that there was nowhere for him to escape to, it took some gentle coaxing (and with additional interaction from Jaal, as he seemed to figure out what her intentions were pretty quickly), but she finally managed to get him to speak more about what had happened following the incident at the Forge. 

After his stint with the Roekaar, Lathoul had decided to take a job as an assistant with a few of the Initiative researchers working on a fauna mutation study in Pelaav. Baraanj, the other brother that had been present with them at the Forge (the one Jaal had punched… then hugged, she remembered pretty clearly because she’d been pretty startled by it at the time), had retreated to Remnant study with a joint angara-Initiative group at one of the few ruin sites around the vault. Lathoul had made it sound as if their mothers had urged them into such service—a penance of sorts for their indiscretions—but the way he spoke of the Initiative researchers with care and appreciation gave Sara the impression that he had willingly agreed to work with them. He had actually opened up quite a bit when discussing his work, becoming more animated as he spoke, especially about one of the researchers named Yurika. Sara knew that Suvi was familiar with the Initiative researches on Havarl, so maybe her science officer knew more about them. 

While Lathoul didn’t seem to harbor any animosity towards her people after what had happened, Sara couldn’t speak on how Baraanj felt after they’d had such tense introductions. She hadn’t even seen him since arriving the day before. However, she learned very quickly how Jaal’s sister was currently feeling. 

Arriving at the Forge, having hired a personal shuttle for themselves once they got to the daar, they were immediately accosted by Teviint in one of the first personnel structures that doubled as a check-in for those coming in from the outside. After driving out the Roekaar, the resident angaran researchers had been able to return to the site and continue their studies, and had even allowed a few Initiative scientists passage as long as they remained under observation. Sara had to assume that her involvement in smoking out the Roekaar had played a part in that, but she was at least glad that things had more or less returned to normal for them. 

As soon as they had made arrangements with one of the angaran administrators there to pass through the Forge site, Teviint hurried into the room from the exit at the far end and immediately caught them in her cross-hairs. Sara could tell instantly that this interaction was probably not going to go much smoother than when they’d first met, because the face of Jaal’s sister spoke volumes. 

“They told me you would be coming here,” she said in a very clipped, abrupt way as if there was no time for pleasantries, before rounding on Jaal who greeted her with only a curt nod. Teviint hadn’t clarified _who_ had told her they were coming, but as most of Jaal’s family seemed to know all of their business (she hadn’t forgotten how sneaky Yahvir—and probably _Sahuna_ instigating—thought they were being, and she wasn’t about to let that go) that probably didn’t matter. 

What really mattered more than those formalities, was that there seemed to be some unspoken tension between the two angara as they stood at a distance from each other, perhaps lingering resentment from what had happened. Jaal’s very stilted greeting had appeared unusually cold. There was no warm forehead greeting as Sara had begun to suspect from observation was customary between family members—or rather, loved ones given that Jaal had been extending that closeness to her. There was certainly no hug, or even a very basic angara handshake when his sister stormed up to them in a flurry of something vaguely crackling to Sara’s awareness. 

Jaal hadn’t really mentioned any lasting issues after they’d left, but perhaps it was something he hadn’t been willing to speak about. Teviint _was_ the one who shot Lathoul after all, his only crime having been to plead with Jaal to get them out of the mess they had gotten themselves into. 

Although clearly Teviint hadn’t been thinking logically at the time when she’d pulled the trigger, and all had seemed to be sorted out and forgiven, but Jaal still appeared to be holding her at a distance for now. 

“Yes. And I have brought Sara.” 

Was she supposed to acknowledge Jaal’s sister? Sara was really unsure as to what was going on between them, but since Jaal had pointed her out she was now dragged into the interaction. 

Sara decided on silence, as Teviint looked down at her with a sniff, her delicate features twisting into a frown of disgust. 

“I see that.” 

_Ah, so that’s how it’s going to be._

Sara could have been petty if she wanted to, but it wouldn’t have been good or particularly smart. This was going to be a personal squabble for a while maybe, and she wasn’t about to let Jaal’s sister goad her into any sort of confrontation that was going to reflect poorly on her, or the Initiative. 

Or more importantly, one that might reflect poorly on Jaal. 

So she opted to say nothing other than a quiet, neutral _hello_. She _was_ technically intruding on a sacred place after all, Jaal’s guest or not. She just silently hoped it wasn’t going to be like this forever. 

It was hard to tell if Sara’s lack of reaction was what set Teviint off, but _something_ did as she stepped closer to Jaal and started hissing a string of very harshly spoken words under her breath that Sara didn’t understand—not Shalesh obviously, but context clues told her that Jaal was getting a very harsh, verbal scolding that he was clearly uninterested in. His only reaction came from a single quick rebuttal, she knew as much based on the very flat manner in which he delivered it, followed by Teviint looking very put-off before finally stepping away. 

Sara could have sworn that the air felt almost tangible then, similarly to how tense the environment felt on the Tempest that morning Jaal had finally exploded at Liam, and it didn’t let up once Jaal gathered her arm in his hand and was practically yanking her out the door back outside. He wasn’t hurting her, but there was a definite sense of urgency behind his actions as he pulled her through the research settlement onto a jungle pathway Sara remembered passing through the previous time she was here. 

“Hey,” Sara finally said after a few moments of this, trying to draw his attention. As if finally becoming aware of himself, Jaal released his grip on her arm, though the tension didn’t become any less noticeable. 

“I’m sorry, dearest one,” he sighed, but Sara could still feel all the hairs on her arms standing on-end from the almost smothering manifestation of Jaal’s annoyance. Sara reflexively grabbed his hand, stopping him. 

“You’re upset. I can _feel_ you’re upset.” Jaal finally stopped to look at her, his face a mask of pure irritation that he was either having trouble hiding or not bothering to hide. Their positions had been reversed after breakfast, with her first impulse being to change her expression and be evasive when _he_ had asked her what was wrong. “I don’t want to pry, but I want you to talk to me.” 

The air softened, and Jaal certainly seemed to relax as he kept her hand in his while he led her back through the jungle at a considerably slower pace. It was a dramatic contrast walking through these lush corridors now, surrounded by remnants of molded stone and masonry, and being able to actually look around and take it all in without having to worry about a bullet catching you unawares. 

It was _so_ distracting that Sara almost didn’t have time to really wonder if she should be worried about holding his hand with strangers around to see them. Jaal’s family may have largely accepted her without question, but Sara had no delusions to the contrary that there were still plenty of angara that would find this display really offensive. Maybe, _especially_ , in a place that was considered sacred to them, and that was definitely something she was aware of. 

There didn’t appear to be anyone around. It actually felt rather deserted now that they’d left the research station, with nothing but the sounds of the jungle surrounding them, but in Sara’s experience that didn’t mean they weren’t still being watched. There were probably at least a dozen Resistance soldiers watching them right at that moment from somewhere unseen. 

Sara thought so strongly about this that she considered letting go of Jaal’s hand, but she thought better of it when he finally looked over at her, his face grim. 

“Teviint does not approve of my choices.” 

“I kind of got that impression, yeah.” Sara found it interesting that she was being largely erased from this equation, as if she’d had no choice in the arrangement at all. Perhaps, it was at least good that his sister’s opinion wasn’t that Sara was inserting herself into anything, but on the flipside, it meant that Teviint clearly thought Jaal should “know better.” 

That was a little hurtful. It sort of dehumanized her a little bit, but Sara wasn’t really in a position to demand that Teviint like her. She supposed it had been pretty unrealistic to assume that _everyone_ in Jaal’s family would be thrilled about her presence at all. 

“I am sorry about what she said,” Jaal finally added as they passed over a bridge that linked the pathway over a chasm in the rock, the slope upwards running alongside the face of the mountain. The path was wide enough and secure on the sheer side, ensuring that no one would fall off on the ascent. 

Sara wondered what Jaal was referring to, perhaps taking her silence as some lingering hostility, though she had no illusions that Teviint hadn’t called her a number of nasty names. 

“I have no idea what she said,” Sara shrugged, though she felt Jaal pause next to her. This prompted her to look at him when she felt him stop on the pathway, only to see the puzzled look on his face. He had no idea she hadn’t been able to understand them this whole time. “Jaal, my translator is only encoded for Shalesh. Did you not realize you’ve only been speaking to me, and the entire crew in Shalesh this whole time?” 

“I did—” Jaal frowned, looking unusually distressed. “—I did not realize though that the Initiative had not translated all of our dialects… Sara, I’m sorry had I known I would have asked my family this morning to refrain—” 

“It’s fine. _Really_.” Sara had to encourage him to continue walking, and he did so reluctantly as she pulled him up the pathway. “Besides, SAM offered to put together the translator package for me this morning but I told him not to. I kind of wanted to listen. It was really fascinating, actually.” Clearly, Sara had uncovered a nerve, or at the very least, something that seemed to really bother Jaal. 

“It seems that we have a barrier of language that separates us.” 

Now it was Sara’s turn to frown, not certain how she _really_ felt about this now that it was out in the open. “I’m used to it. That’s the way it always was where I came from. There were way too many languages to even begin hoping to understanding even a fraction of them. So, we had our translators.” It never really occurred to her that Jaal may find this troubling, given their new circumstances together, but he clearly did given the way he now seemed to be laser-focused on her. 

Now that she thought about it, she supposed, maybe that bothered her a little bit too. 

“I guess we kind of took them for granted…” 

“Then, perhaps we should remove that barrier.” Jaal finally said after a moment of thought, a sudden determination in his voice that seemed to be doing a good job of lifting his spirits as he stopped to tug her closer. Sara’s initial impulse was to squirm a bit as his arm wrapped around her shoulders to pull her in, her eyes shifting around, wondering, just who might be watching. 

She relaxed—and maybe even melted a bit—as soon as she felt his bulk against her, taking comfort in his warmth as if this is exactly what the faint fluttering of his current was designed to do. 

“Are you suggesting to try and teach me your native dialect? I hope you have a _lot_ of patience…” Sara couldn’t help but muse, smiling slightly, thinking it would be just as hard to teach him Alliance Common. She wasn’t a teacher, and wouldn’t even know where to begin. 

But… maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. It would actually be rather _fun_ , she thought, to really dissect and pull apart a language system that had evolved in a completely separate corner of the universe from her own. 

Jaal chuckled, and it rumbled against her cheek where she was pressed against him. “I do,” he confirmed. 

Sara imagined, the possibilities that would have been had there existed any living, breathing Protheans around to provide context and experience to the language and everything they’d left behind. All they’d had was what the asari had previously decoded, and that of their own ingenuity when rifling through the databanks and bountiful, fragmented algorithms that was the legacy of her galaxy’s previous inhabitants. Their language and way of life was dead, living on only through the tech and resources that had been abandoned when they fell. 

The angara clearly were not dead, but that was the very thing that would make learning a language that had evolved in another galaxy more exciting. It wasn’t _just_ a language, but the unique circumstances in which the angara common had diverged into separate dialects offered an additional perspective on how their _cultures_ had also diverged that would be fascinating. There would _be_ that context and living experience to really pull together the _how_ , and that really excited her. She’d never really felt that compelled to learn any of the other languages in the Milky Way, but these were very special circumstances. 

“Alright, I’d like that.” 

“Good,” Jaal said, and they continued walking, this time his hand was resting on the back of her neck again. “We will start tonight.” He squeezed just slightly, a gentle tightening of his hand at the back of her neck that was warm and loving. That tingling was back, and Sara sighed in contentment, despite an initial flare of anxiety due to Jaal’s desire to literally throw her into it immediately. 

“What happened to that patience?” 

“I see no reason to wait.” 

“I guess you’re right.” Sara knew, she was going to make a spectacle of herself, but she hardly cared. 

More importantly, Jaal seemed much more at east now, which was why it surprised Sara when he eventually said, “I told my sister that her opinion was worth less than her own shit.” 

“You _didn’t_ ,” Sara tried her damnedest not to chuckle, but it was hard not to with the slightest hint of amusement, and maybe even a little bit of pride, in Jaal’s voice like he was pleased with his own wit. That certainly explained why Teviint looked so annoyed when she’d backed off. 

“I did. Is that surprising?” Jaal actually seemed perplexed by her disbelief, though Sara reasoned her inflection hadn’t been enough to construe sarcasm. 

“That’s just an expression, and I’m sure you’ve already heard us talk that way on the Tempest. It doesn't actually mean I don’t believe you,” Sara said, heading off his request for clarification, frowning at the thought that he may have misconstrued her comment as a lack of faith in him. “It doesn’t actually surprise me that you would defend my honor,” she added, unable to stop herself from grinning. “You don’t have to. Part of being Pathfinder is learning all sorts of creative ways people can come up with expressing how much they hate you…” 

Jaal frowned, contemplating. “What she said… It was meant to reflect more poorly on me, rather than you…” He seemed to be warring with the need to tell her, against the fact that she may be offended with what was said. Though now it appeared to have been more of a personal slight against him, even though she doubted it looked great on her either. 

“You don’t need to tell me, I could kind of guess that it wasn’t meant to be flattering.” Sara said. “Besides, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” 

“No.” It really didn’t matter. Words were just words, and it was probably not the last time someone would say shitty things about them. 

Eventually, the winding path led back through the jungle, and they finally emerged back out into the open clearing where Sara remembered the final stand-off with the Roekaar taking place; where the final stand-off with Akksul had resulted in Jaal nearly getting killed. 

“I had said that I wanted to bring you here under better circumstances…” Jaal said eventually as they reached the edge of the clearing, surrounded by the ruins that gave the forge its name: almost perfectly shaped stone columns and half-collapsed remains of buildings, too perfect to have been crafted completely by hand, but the mechanism for _how_ they were built was a mystery even to the angara. Bullet holes now scarred the surfaces of a number of the remaining structures, a reminder of the destruction that had been caused by their passing. 

A sheer cliff plunged toward the jungle below, and it must have been hundreds of feet to the bottom. Sara remembered this view vaguely, and she just barely remembered that Jaal had in fact, said that in the brief calm before the Roekaar had ambushed them. 

“You did,” she said, walking just close enough to the edge to be able to glimpse the bottom where the jungle canopy was nearly a blur. Havarl glittered like a jewel in the expanse beyond, the remains of Remnant structures jutting up from the skyline like fingers. The large gas giant that curved over the horizon was cast in a lavender glow. There was a reason why the Initiative had dubbed it a “twilight world,” as Havarl certainly lived up to the name. Somehow, through all their scans and calculations, they’d never noticed the angara existed. 

The view really was quite stunning, romantic even, and Sara knew, that even then, that was probably what Jaal had intended. 

“And now we’re here, under better circumstances,” Sara turned back to smile at Jaal, who was watching her with an intensity she’d never quite seen before. Yet, she _knew_ that look, somehow, and what it meant. 

It meant he loved her. 

Sara could have said to him everything she was feeling in that moment: the love that she felt swirling around inside her, threatening to burst out of her chest, and maybe even kill her. It almost hurt, how much she realized she was in love with him, and somehow that very admission was too overwhelming to speak in that moment. 

More overwhelming than waking from 600 years of cryo, in another galaxy. More overwhelming than losing her father on a habitat that was nothing like the one they had anticipated. More overwhelming than becoming Pathfinder, and shouldering the responsibility of so many on her own, without Scott by her side, that she’d lost sight of her own needs. 

Instead of speaking Sara reached out with a hand, beckoning Jaal to join her where she stood, so that they could experience such better circumstances together. 

*** 

Jaal did not need to be asked twice. When Sara reached for him, he complied, almost pulled to her like she was tugging on a string attached to his breast. He must have looked a sight, just standing there and watching her as she stood at the precipice, unable to really find further words to truly express what was in his heart at that moment. 

He loved her. He knew as much, and that was all that mattered. Teviint, or anyone else that might disapprove, could speak ill of him however long they wished, but none of that mattered. His sister’s words were still a bit sour on his mind, but he tamped down those feelings, wishing to focus only on that which brought him joy. 

So, he’d gladly taken her hand when she’d called for him, and had just as readily pulled her against him so that they could bask in Havarl’s endless twilight together. They remained that way for a time, his arm wrapped around her small frame like it was meant to be there. She placed her head against his chest and stayed there unmoving, only the even rise and fall of her breath underneath his embrace needed to remind him that he’d nearly lost her. 

Eventually, the ache from standing became far too pressing to ignore. Sara evidently felt it too, because she shifted away from him, tugging his arm with a dip of her head to indicate that she wanted to sit. After a bit of shuffling, and direction from her, Jaal figured out the best way to bend at her preference so that she could comfortably lean against him. 

After a moment of silence, without looking at him Sara muttered, “So what’s in the bag?” 

“N-nothing.” Jaal instantly flushed, his arm instinctively tightening around her waist in reflex as he jumped with a start. He’d hoped Sara hadn’t noticed his mother’s intervention. He cursed his brother for even insinuating anything, as that had clearly not escaped Sara’s notice either. He was thankful that she could not see the nervous blush begin creep up his cheeks. “Just… supplies. Supplies my mother thought we might need.” The _exact_ supplies he conveniently left out. 

“Uh huh, that was thoughtful of her,” Sara said, clearly not believing him. She sat up then, and looked at him squarely, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “But I know there’s something in there other than ‘trail rations’... which I’d like by the way, because I’m hungry.” 

Ordinarily an angara would feel no shame speaking of such things, especially to the object of their affections. Angara did not normally hide their more subdued physical expressions of love, and now that Jaal’s initial anxieties about the attraction being mutual came to be unfounded, he did not hesitate to show it. It was normal, and perfectly natural, and other angara who would be uncomfortable with the circumstances be damned. 

Jaal still hadn’t fully prepared for… the more rigorous declarations of mutual desire. Even angara reserved the intensely more intimate activities as something private between lovers, so that was something that seemed to be shared across species. He’d certainly _thought_ about it, had done only a cursory bit of research out of curiosity—and maybe a little bit of something more carnal if he was being completely honest—but he’d taken care to be slow and deliberate the night before for a very important reason: he didn’t want to rush this. _This_ was entirely new, and he did not expect Sara to throw away her inhibitions in order to accommodate him. No, she was deserving of far more respect and attentiveness than that. 

_She_ was not angara, and they were embarking on something that was quite unprecedented. 

His mother however, had seen fit to throw him headfirst into it before he’d truly had time to approach that topic with Sara. He hadn’t yet put thought into how he would discuss it with her, but it was all being laid out at their feet now, thanks to his mother’s probably intentional push in that direction. He would have to talk to her later about boundaries... 

Despite this, Sara appeared to be having fun with his discomfort. Steeling himself, Jaal thought, he could play along. He couldn’t help himself. 

“My mother has always looked out for her children.” Jaal did his best to keep his face passive, but it was hard to stop the wry smile from spreading across his lips as he saw Sara begin to reach for the bag. He had placed it on the ground when they sat, just barely out of her reach, and when she moved towards it he pushed it even further away with his leg. 

“Are the contents...dangerous?” Sara knew. There was no way she didn’t. 

“Potentially...” 

“Nothing I should be made... aware of?” Sara’s brow raised, her mouth curved just slightly into the smile that contradicted the stern tone she was attempting to fake. “ ...Jaal, as your commanding officer I need to be made aware of all dangerous items in the possession of my crew.” 

“You mean like _everything_ in Peebee’s possession?” 

“I’m hoping for something more...exciting.” _Oh_. A flare of heat started to make it’s way down his throat, filling his chest where his heart was starting to race. Sara persisted, her eyes watching him knowingly, and Jaal thought about indulging her just a little bit. 

“Alright… You have worn me down.” Jaal sighed heavily with feigned resignation, reaching into the bag and pulling out one of the small containers his mother had packed. It was not the one Sara was asking about, but she did not yet know that. 

Sara gave him a sidelong look as he handed it to her, and Jaal hoped his neutral expression gave nothing away.. “—What?” She opened the container and her nose immediately wrinkled in disgust. “ _Nutrient paste!?_ ” 

“I did say it was potentially dangerous…” Jaal could not help the laughter that bubbled up from his throat and laced his words, cherishing Sara’s exasperated look as she forced the container closed before tossing it on the ground next to her. 

“You little shit, I _know_ you know what I’m talking about!” Sara dove over his lap for it, and Jaal had barely a moment’s scramble to catch her in his arms before her hands were already on the bag. “Jaaaaaal!” 

It only took a slight miscalculation of movement on Jaal’s part for Sara to end up sprawled on the ground beneath him, pinned under his weight and the effort to retrieve the bag from her grasp. Her feigned struggle seized the moment he stilled, her soft laughter turning into breathy gasps as she realized at perhaps the same moment that he did just what position they found themselves in. 

The playful struggle, the insinuations as to the contents of the bag and the _reality_ of what his mother had put in the bag, the closeness of Sara’s body pinned underneath him as her eyes turned amorous and wanting: a number of the reasons as to why Jaal began to feel very flushed and tingly with sudden arousal. His current stuttered as Sara leaned forward to press her lips against his, her hand sneakily reaching up to pull his face to hers as he responded eagerly. _Too_ eager. Blood and heat were beginning to pool low and deep; a pleasurable throb promising of future delights, followed by the increasingly more familiar tightening from within his sheath as her mouth moved against his. 

Just as quickly, as if abruptly becoming aware of herself, Sara pulled away with a frustrated whimper. Her brow was knit tightly in distress, but what was more concerning to him was his reluctance to pull way. 

“Sorry,” Sara mumbled. “I’m not trying to push you…” 

“Sara, no…” Jaal rumbled, finding his sense of control once more—or a shred of it, but it would be enough. “I would be lying if I said I did not enjoy this current course, but…” he eased away a bit, his breath slowing enough that his head ceased to swim as soon as he put some distance between their bodies. Bracing on his hands against the ground, he could still look down at Sara below him. He rather liked this position. “I am capable of behaving.” 

“So would now be a bad time to ask again what’s in this bag?” Sara’s expression turned dark again, and she grinned as the bag was jostled in her hand. Jaal huffed, his eyes shifting sideways to avoid her devious stare. 

“It seems…” he started with a half-smile, “...my mother has taken notice of how small you are…” 

“And?” Sara knew exactly what she was doing, and he couldn’t help but love her more for it. She was intentionally baiting him into just coming out and speaking plainly—like he really _should_ be. 

“...She is concerned that I may hurt you… while coupling...” Sara’s eyes were shimmering with mirth, but she didn’t respond, and for some reason this compelled Jaal to clarify himself. “My _size_.” 

“ _Oh_.” Sara’s eyes widened for a moment, before her grin turned devilish. “That confident, huh?” She laughed, the sound low and playful, and maybe just a little bit nervous. This Jaal reasoned was his cue to move, and as he shifted away into a sitting position next to her, he silently thanked his own self-control at getting his body back to normal. He would blessedly not be embarrassing himself by revealing anything too soon before the time was right. 

“I did not say _I_ had that concern. I am not boastful.” Truthfully that was one of the many things Jaal hadn’t even had _time_ to consider yet. Now he knew what he was going to be worrying about when he was trying to sleep that night... 

“I believe you,” Sara said, but she didn’t sound entirely convinced. When she sat up, Jaal couldn’t help but notice her eyes travel over him, perhaps looking for something that wasn’t quite there yet, but it sent a thrill rippling through his current. “I’m still going to look inside this bag.” 

Jaal sighed. He had lost this battle. “Fine.” 

Like she had been given a gift, Sara immediately opened the bag and began rummaging around inside. It did not take her long to find the small, nondescript bottle that his mother had packed away, starting this whole mess. Now, being able to actually see it, Jaal swallowed thickly with nerves. 

“Is this what I think it is?” Sara asked innocently, but there was no trace of hostility in her voice. For that, Jaal was thankful. He wondered, if he could now goad her into blurting it out on her own... 

“That depends…” He could not stop the smile on his lips, thankful that Sara returned his playful expression and that their momentary mishap had not soured the mood. 

“It’s lubricant, isn’t it?” 

“It is.” Jaal frowned again. “I’m sorry. I will speak to my mother later… she is… trying to help, but I understand that you may find it inappropriate…” 

Sara laughed, putting the bottle back into the bag. “Are all angara mothers this invested in their children’s sex lives?” 

Jaal could not help but chuckle, welcoming Sara back as she scooted closer to settle against his shoulder. Truthfully, knowing how relatively… prudish the humans had all seemed to be so far, he was surprised that Sara was not more incensed by his mother’s attempt at helping. “This is actually quite normal for angara. There is nothing more natural and cherished than two lovers being intimate, and it is often customary for angara parents to ensure their children do so safely.” 

“How responsible of them,” Sara said fondly, though he could hear the smile on her lips that he could not see from the angle she sat in. “Though I think lubrication will be the least of our problems…” Sara may have left that thought hanging in the air intentionally—and Jaal would be _pondering_ that in greater detail later—but he suddenly felt the need to clarify his intent. 

“Sara…” Jaal said quietly after a moment, finding her hand where she had it rested against her leg. He leaned forward to speak closer to her ear. The strands of her hair brushed against his face; he could smell her shampoo, and it suddenly made it hard to speak what he had been about to say. “...Please do not mistake my reluctance to continue as a lack of desire…” 

Sara stilled a moment, her muscles stiffening against him, before she sat up to look at him fully. Her face had grown serious, and perhaps even a bit concerned, though, her cheeks had tinted a slight pink. 

“I didn’t assume that angara just… jump into things like that. Humans don’t necessarily either. Some do, I guess, but it’s not _required_ or expected to…” She paused, her eyes shifting sideways as she grew uncomfortable. Jaal wanted to brush it away, lifting a hand to her face to push away the strands of hair that had fallen against her cheek as if this would banish her disquiet. 

“It is the same for angara,” he said, lips pursed in thought. “And it seems we are both… enthusiastic… but I want—” 

“—You want to take it slow,” Sara finished for him. Her eyes were on him again, seeming to regain confidence. “I want that too.” She smiled sheepishly. “I’m not good at talking about this kind of stuff…” 

Jaal laughed quietly, his hand sliding down her cheek to her shoulder where he let it remain. Sara seemed to glow in the diffused light, and it made him want to kiss her— _badly_ —but he also knew this communication was too important to interrupt. He let his current travel over her, even if she couldn’t feel it, but it felt right to express this comforting affection in this way. Though, the way Sara’s expression relaxed, her eyes slipping closed as she took in a breath, made him wonder... 

“I should tell you, that it is not normal for angara to hide their affections. It will be natural for me to want to be near you, and touch you often, but I understand this may not be the same for you.” Jaal said. “I will need you to tell me if it becomes too much.” 

“I don’t think that will be a problem… but maybe we _should_ show a little restraint around leadership right now…” Sara said thoughtfully. “To be honest, I have a feeling everyone on the Tempest already knows anyway...” 

“They do,” Jaal clarified. “Vetra has made some rather pointed observations, and Drack has intimated that he would throw me out the airlock should I do anything to upset you. I suspect my lack of caution when speaking to Liam has resulted in the entire ship being aware...” 

“Well, I think Liam has been shipping us since you got on board, and he _does_ like to talk.” 

“What is _shipping_?” 

“Oh Jaal…” Sara said wistfully. “Hang around some of the human extranet communities sometime. You’ll figure it out pretty quickly. In the meantime, I’m getting kind of hungry. Is nutrient paste all your mom packed? Aside from the lubricant anyway… and I don’t really intend on eating that.” 

“Not out of the bottle…” 

“Jaal!” Sara yelped. “That’s cute, and we can come back to that later, but I’m being serious…” She turned her face to look at him sideways, though the expression on her face was clearly one of fond exasperation. 

“So was I.” 

“I’m starting to rethink how much I actually like you…” Though her words were biting, her tone was plainly in jest. There was a time where Jaal may have misinterpreted her words as a blunt declaration and be offended, but now he understood the layers of subtext that was often hidden in many of the things that Sara would say; that _many_ of the aliens he had been spending his time with would say. 

It was a testament to how far they had come; how much he had learned, and how much in harmony he and Sara had become. It made him smile, and he rested his chin on her crown as they watched the approaching storm together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it goes without saying that going forward, things are going to start getting a bit more sexy. We're not at the outright explicit stuff yet, but I will do my best to mark the straight-up sexy chapters as such, and notate any chapters that just have a little bit of that peppered in. I've got a little ways to go before that.... but I have.... plans for them....
> 
> In the next chapter, I'll be touching on a little bit of their final night together at home, but it's finally time to move on and get back to normal. Will they be able to keep their hands off each other once they get back to the Tempest? Only time will tell...


	10. Elaaden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaal and Sara discuss "favorites" on the way to Elaaden, and Sara begins to put together just what is going on at the krogan colony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who has commented so far! I'm not always able to respond to everyone, but I really appreciate it!
> 
> The next few chapters will be a little bit filler-ish, but I'm trying to pack in as much fluff as I possibly can in between the "game" beats.

A slight chill began to descend on Jaal and Sara, the pair having settled into a quiet, restful embrace as stormclouds gathered over the horizon. Large and ominous, the sky was receding behind the swell of the coming squall, the blanket of dark, angry gray tinged with violet at the leading edge of its advance.

Sara instinctively nestled closer into Jaal—his warm bulk was like a furnace against her—and she shivered against the wave of cold air that heralded the turmoil to come.

“The Tempest was named after something like this… dangerous, yet beautiful at the same time…” She could feel Jaal’s mouth move over her temple, like a soft kiss against her hair as he exhaled heavily.

“As is the woman who commands it…”

“Flatterer,” Sara smiled wryly. 

They had remained that way for a greater part of the afternoon, simply taking solace in each other’s presence as they traded short stories. Sara learned, that Jaal’s father had brought him to the Forge as a child once, and she frowned as he retold the tale with little trace of sorrow in his voice. Though, she was taken by the level of care and attentiveness Jaal conveyed of his father; something she probably would not have been able to say for her own, at least not that she could recall in any meaningful way.

It made her sad, _terribly_ sad, to think that she’d been uselessly asleep on the Hyperion while Jaal had suffered.

Thankfully, Sahuna had indeed packed something other than nutrient paste, and the _other_ thing she had packed, a thing of which Sara was going to be thinking about probably far more than she should be for days to come. The mere suggestion behind Sahuna’s very blunt offering was enough to make her heart start to beat just a little bit faster at the complete lack of subtlety behind it. She couldn’t help but look at Jaal just a little bit differently too—unable to stop the impulse of _wondering_ —though she admitted that it was a little heartwarming that his mother was concerned about her well-being.

Food was an adequate distraction, so Sara was able to take her mind off that more direct concern while they enjoyed some of the remnants of breakfast together. It was cold now, but the flavors were still strong and enough to stave off her growling stomach until they returned home.

Soon though, as the stormclouds reached ever higher in the distance, the air began to move against them. The cold sheet of air was like a wave, carrying with it the scent of alien soil and rain. It was almost electrified, and in some strange way Jaal felt physically energized. The space just over the surface of his body seemed to quiver in anticipation; his current wavering with the charged air and approaching storm.

“We should return home,” Jaal eventually said, reluctantly, as the hand he’d had draped around her waist slid around to rest on her hip. Sara understood this as her cue to move, and as they stood together they exited the Forge.

They returned to Pelaav to find Jaal’s brothers waiting for them. Sara supposed they had probably communicated this very plan, and by the time the air had begun to churn and swell with moisture they were already in the air. Not much was said on the shuttle, though Jaal shared very quick words with Yahvir that was additional chastisement for his earlier prodding. It seemed halfhearted at best, and the two brothers exchanged smiles and soft laughter on the journey home. Lathoul appeared exhausted, dozing a bit as the shuttle rocked against the increasingly agitated air, but Sara thought she detected a contented smile on his face as his head tilted against the cabin’s frame.

By the time they landed back at the Ama Darav home, heavy pellets of rain were already pouring from the sky, bright flashes illuminating the darkening cloud cover as the center of the storm approached. In the mad dash to get out of the downpour Sara still managed to get soaked, her hair plastered to her head in a dripping mess once they made it inside. Jaal was incapable of staving off the impulse of plunging his fingers into the wet strands, his booming laughter joyous and exuberant as if it was the most exciting thing in the world to him. She had to playfully fight him off while they made their way into the common room, leaving a trail of water after their steps.

Sahuna greeted them with large, fluffy angaran towels and a somewhat curious look on her face, likely trying to ascertain what they’d gotten into without asking. Sara thought about being coy and leaving Sahuna to think that her suggestion had been successful, but she didn’t really want to start some sort of shitstorm of gossip in the household. It was probably entirely normal for angara families to not have those sorts of boundaries, and it would probably very quickly permeate outside the walls of the house if Sahuna had anything to say about it. _That_ was the kind of additional headache Sara thought neither she or Jaal needed right now.

Though Sahuna didn’t ask anything outright, thankfully, but when she insisted that Jaal prepare dinner with her she suspected her angara was probably going to bring up boundaries. He’d suggested as much, and Sara honestly preferred he have that discussion with her. She was _his_ mother after all, and while Sara knew that Jaal was largely doing it for her benefit, it seemed that he valued privacy a bit more than his family anyway.

It was still early in the afternoon, so Sara took that opportunity to finally ask about using that very nice bath while she still had a chance. One they returned back to the Tempest it would be back to rationed showers again in her cramped, private bathroom space. She hadn’t had that kind of indulgence since being back in the Milky Way, so when she approached Sahuna she actually felt rather guilty to ask for such a favor. Though it was unwarranted, as Sahuna was more than thrilled to escort her all the way back out to the bathing room, eager to ask about their day. To her credit she was careful to avoid asking _exactly_ what they did.

Sara thanked whatever higher power listening that the pathway out to the bathing room was covered. It was a detail she hadn’t paid much attention to when she’d first made the trek, but now, she was more than glad that it was there. Rain hammered the curved, canopy-like awning, cascading down the sides to surround the walkway in curtains of water. Thankfully she wouldn’t have to bathe, only to run right back out into the weather again just to get soaked a second time. Though the water was clean, she didn’t particularly want to get drenched and cold again after a warm bath if it wasn’t necessary.

Sahuna spent some time showing her how to warm the water and operate the drain system should Sara need it, directing her to the shelving of additional towels and toiletries. She was about to turn and leave to allow Sara privacy, when she trilled in warning as Jaal’s frame appeared in the doorway, seeming as if he felt out of place.

“ _Jaal_. I believe she wishes to bathe _alone_.” Sahuna was certainly an enigma of contradictions, practically encouraging them to be intimate but also teasing her son endlessly about any whiff or suggestion of him seeking it out on his own. It was baffling, but Sara had to admit, also endlessly entertaining.

“Hi, Jaal,” Sara laughed, feeling like she needed to stave off the oncoming awkward situation as much as possible.

“I am only here to give this to Sara—” Jaal remained in the doorway as if he wasn’t allowed to even set foot in the room, looking wide-eyed and like he was _caught_. Sara knew his intentions were sincere, but she couldn’t help but smirk at him. The accused look on his face far too precious to deprive herself of.

“You are my foolish little boy—” Sahuna stepped past him back out onto the covered pathway, waving her hand in his face aggressively. “—Still too curious for his own good, trying to sneak a peek!” her voice trailed after her as she walked back towards the house, leaving Jaal alone to retrieve his dignity.

“I am _not!_ ”

“What do you have for me?” Sara stepped towards him curiously, trying to hastily change the subject. She could tell Jaal was blushing, as he shifted between his legs trying to hide his discomfort at his mother’s teasing. He had a small, decorative vessel in his hands, held carefully against his front.

“Ah—I thought you might like something of your own. An angara cleanser from the daar.” He handed it to her like it was something precious. He spoke softly, maybe even unsure of his welcome in these circumstances considering everything they had already discussed about taking things slow. It warmed Sara, how attentive to this he was. “I acquired this for you while you were distracted by the food pavilion…”

Sara snorted with amusement, as she _had_ gotten distracted by a stand that had been emitting a stifling aroma of searing, perfectly seasoned food. The cold, blustery air accompanying the approaching storm had only seemed to intensify the flavors she could smell, making her mouth water. She’d been spoiled by Jaal’s family on Havarl, so the prospect of going back to freeze-dried Initiative ration packs and Blast-O’s on the Tempest was making her overly ravenous to experience as much as she could. She hadn’t even noticed that Jaal had been busy procuring gifts for her behind her back, though that had probably been his intent: to be sneaky about it.

“You… you didn’t have to…” Sara didn’t know what to say, looking down at the gift in her hands. It was not lost on her the rather _intimate_ nature of the gift, though she suspected that hadn’t exactly been his point to it.

Yet when she opened it up to smell it, the scent immediately touched her senses—a powerful melody of foreign florals, with a mysterious bite to it that was almost peppery and spicy. It warmed the back of her throat as she breathed it in, heating her up from the inside. It was _sensual_. To _her_ senses at least, but that certainly made her rethink whether or not Jaal knew what it suggested.

“You seemed curious about everything I’d brought with me on the Tempest. So, I wanted to.”

“Thank you,” Sara said, her hand brushing against his warmly. He nodded with a soft smile, before angling to leave her to her bathing, but not without planting a lingering look that Sara could easily read as a yearning to stay. Both seemed reluctant to part, sensing the equal desire in the other to share the experience together, but if fate allowed them there would be time for that later. It would be something to look forward to…

As Sara expected, the bath was pretty damn amazing, and she knew that she was going to be salty about having to return to her own shower as soon as they were back on the Tempest. SAM piped in momentarily to declare that the cleanser Jaal bought her would not react in any dangerous way with her skin. In fact, it almost did the opposite, leaving her feeling luxuriously soft and pampered. The potency of the fragrance intensified, activated by the heat or the water—she couldn’t be sure—and it warmed her skin as she used it in a way that felt like she was being caressed. Now she was convinced that was probably very much intentional. Jaal thought he was being _sneaky_.

Sara wouldn’t have been surprised if the intended purpose of the cleanser was specifically for lovers to use on each other. It didn’t seem like a stretch that Jaal would buy her something with that underlying subtext, as it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was expressing an interest in joining her at some point. Given what she knew of the angara and their penchant for cleanliness, something like bathing together would probably be an expression of something intensely intimate between two lovers. It actually seemed rather blunt and forward of him if she really thought about it, even if he wasn’t specifically voicing such an interest. How uncannily _angara_ of him… 

That wasn’t so different for humans, Sara supposed, and she couldn’t quite get her mind off it. She wondered, what it would be like to share the massive, heated pool of water with Jaal. His size would probably take up quite a bit of space but she wouldn’t mind the closeness. It would probably feel exquisite, the cleanser under Jaal’s attentive fingers as he massaged it into her skin before she returned the favor. They probably wouldn’t do much _bathing_ —

Reluctantly, Sara realized she’d overstayed her welcome in bath and it was probably time to finish up before they wondered if she’s gotten sucked up by the drain...

Dinner passed by much like breakfast had, though it was significantly quieter and devoid of Sara becoming self-conscious with her own presence there. This time, she’d allowed SAM to create a translation package for her so that she wouldn’t miss anything they said. The bright, vibrant laughter and conversation felt like _home_. She was going to miss this.

By that point the storm was in full-form, battering the home with a lashing of rain and lightning. After his family cleared out of the solarium, Jaal beckoned Sara to join him on the covered porch to watch the downpour and _clang_ of lightning. It had a strange, high-pitched metallic quality to it that was different from what she remembered of Earth, and it webbed through the grey, bursting clouds like veiny threads of lavender luminescence. Rain fell off the canopy covering the porch in sheets, the air cold and biting, but with a full belly of food that mother and son had prepared together, she felt a warmth and satisfaction that she hadn’t experienced since departing the Milky Way. 

Sara couldn’t honestly be sure of what the food _was_ to be honest, but it seemed like some sort of nutty meatloaf with an intensely salty gravy of some kind. There had been fruit drizzled with a kind of sweet nectar for after, and Sahuna had even prepared her coffee again to go with it. It was all more than Sara could really take in at once, and was quite honestly some of the best food she’d ever tasted. She made sure to praise Jaal after as they settled together on a long cushioned bench to watch the storm, though he brushed it off in embarrassment as if he didn’t deserve the compliments. If Jaal wanted to cook for her at any time, she definitely wouldn’t complain, as his previous efforts at baking muffins with Drack had been an additional success to her taste buds.

“It wasn’t too potent for you?” Jaal had asked. For a beat Sara didn’t understand his use of the word _potent_ until she’d recalled something they’d all learned about him some time ago during a rare, smooth ride in the Nomad.

“It was definitely really salty, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing for me.” Sara said, finding a comfortable spot against Jaal’s side as he lifted an arm over the back of the seat to welcome her. She could settle against his armpit here, her head able to tuck against the curved portion of his chest that connected to his cowl. “I know our food is bland to you, but I find your food flavorful and really complex.”

“I suppose I should clarify, while the food from your galaxy is lacking for me—” Jaal’s goofy little smirk was the only warning Sara got before he snuck in close, pulling her lips in for a searing kiss that made her emit a little gasp of delighted surprise. “—Your lips are as sweet as the ripest fruit…” Pulling away just barely, he allowed her the glimpse of the self-satisfied smile plastered across his face, clearly proud of his own cleverness.

“Oh my god, you’re terrible.” Sara hadn’t been expecting _that_ , though she supposed she’d walked right into that one without knowing it. She was fast learning that Jaal was a master at turning everything into a romantic overture—like a damn _poet_ , and he was quite literally going to have her face permanently red.

Sahuna eventually brought them a tray with a flask of _tavuum_ and a small serving jar of an indiscernible fruit juice, but by sniff alone it kind of smelled like paripo. She was looking inordinately pleased as she left them alone on the bench together, and Sara didn’t even have the impulse to pull herself away from where she was snuggling up against Jaal’s warmth.

Jaal certainly hadn’t lied when he declared it would be natural for him to want to be close and show his affection, as he wasn’t being shy around his family. He seemed more physically expressive since they’d returned home, and Sara allowed herself to relax and just enjoy it, once it became clear Jaal’s family paid literally no attention to it. It took a little adjustment on her own part—she was going to be a work in progress—but she was able to return his little tokens, even if for now it was in more subtle ways when they weren’t behind closed doors.

To his credit Jaal wasn’t _handsy_ , but he spent a lot of time near her: dipping close to her to speak, and brushing against her in soft gestures that were nothing more than whispers of touch that made Sara’s heart flutter. She dimly wondered if these small little things were accompanied by some sort of electrical signal he was sending her that she couldn't really feel, at least in any coherent way that she could immediately recognize. It was strangely thrilling to anticipate _something_ being there, even if she couldn’t feel it.

Jaal outpaced himself with the drink, eventually becoming a little bit intoxicated, but not so much that he became incoherent or stepped into the realm of inappropriateness. All it seemed to really do was coax out his more exuberant nature, and make him more determined to assert that this would be a good time to begin tutoring her in his native tongue. Sara questioned the wisdom in this, seeing as Jaal wasn’t exactly speaking clearly enough to make the exercise productive. But, ultimately his earnest enthusiasm for the endeavor won her over, so they’d both switched off their translators.

They didn’t really make much progress that night, and Sara found it initially frustrating near to the point of giving up. Jaal’s voice wasn’t any different, but without the translation filter it somehow felt more _clear_. It’s deep warmth, and lower resonance was still there, but hearing and feeling every word now as the raw, unchanged sounds without the shifting of translation algorithms was like hearing him now without having a plug in her ears. It would have been wonderful to listen to, but Sara was far too frustrated with her immediate lack of focus to really enjoy it. 

She’d known this wasn’t going to be _easy_ , but frankly this was one of the lesser challenges facing her at the moment. The very real barrier that existed between them unseen thanks to the use of technology was never more apparent, but suddenly very distressing as if it was a wall they were never going to break—But, that wasn’t entirely true, she had to tell herself, despite her feelings of being overwhelmed.

Because of that same technology they were able to communicate in ways they wouldn’t have been able to without it. That was already a barrier that had been broken, so there was no reason why this wasn’t a challenge she should welcome. She’d made _planets_ habitable. This was easy.

But perhaps not tonight, at least, not while Jaal was tipsy and not making a lot of sense. Her puzzled expression was probably obvious to him, because he motioned for her to turn her translator back on before nuzzling against her face in concern. He sort of _fell_ into her face rather, likely out of sorts from the tavuum, and this was enough to make Sara laugh and move past her annoyance.

“Maybe we should try this again when we’re not distracted,” Sara offered. She wondered, if Jaal was more sober and not determined to talk _at_ her from the get-go that it would go smoother. “And when you’re less drunk…” she giggled, as Jaal’s comforting nuzzle against her cheek had slowly started to turn into his mouth moving against her jaw.

Easing away, he blinked owlishly at her, his lips turned into a frown.

“It seems, I have overdone it.” Jaal said quietly. “I don’t want to frustrate you.”

“No, I want to try,” she said, taking a breath. “I wasn’t expecting how different it would be without the translators on. It’s… different when you’re talking _to_ me and I’m not just an observer.”

Jaal agreed, even through the haze of alcohol that had his pupils dilated and his cheeks flushed, that they should figure out a strategy. Once they returned to the Tempest and back into normalcy, it would probably be easier to ease into it when they could better focus and there wasn’t an intense lightning storm happening around them.

Once Havarl was a fleck of light in the distance and they returned to the realities of their mission, they were able to settle into a calm routine and keep the enthusiasm at bay. They were able to show restraint, and control, once the romance of Havarl and the comforting, familiar environment of his home was behind them.

The Tempest arrived the next day on schedule, and after saying her goodbyes to Sahuna and about as many of his family members she crossed paths with before leaving, it was time to meet her crew. Sahuna did not let her leave without pulling her to the side—Sara thought she knew what Sahuna was going to say to her.

“I want you both to take care of each other,” she said warmly, but Sara detected a thread of _something_ in her voice that was laced with trepidation.

“I’ll make sure Jaal stays out of trouble.”

This must have been the response Sahuna was looking for, because in the next moment Sara found herself swept into an angaran hug. This overt display of trust and affection compelled Sara to make herself available to her when needed, so she gave her direct extranet address so that they could stay in contact. Sahuna promised not to fill her inbox with messages, though she gave her son a mischievous look when she said it.

Sara’s fear that they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off each other was largely unfounded, at least in the short time it took to travel to Elaaden. Between her Pathfinder duties, and Jaal’s continued work for Evfra, in addition to whatever menial tasks they had around the ship at any given moment, they found themselves sufficiently distracted.

They saved the evenings for each other however, and while they saw each other during the day, the ritual was formed that they would join each other in the evening to eat and discuss anything they’d missed while apart. Any acknowledgment of each other during the day was usually quick: a soft hello, a stolen chaste kiss, or a gentle touch of acknowledgment when they crossed paths. Sara admitted that it might have started to drive her crazy, exerting so much self-control, and she sort of saw it on Jaal’s face throughout the day when she caught his eye, but the evenings did more than enough to make up for it.

While the crew made it more than obvious that they knew what had changed between them, Sara and Jaal still agreed to show at least a little decorum in all the public spaces on the ship. They saved anything more intimate for when they were alone, and aside from the sneaky little gestures in passing, they did pretty well. The evenings generally ended to find them tucked up against each other in the tech lab, or on the couch in her quarters, flushed and breathless from kisses as if to make up for all the lost time. Jaal had taken to the habit of stroking her head when they eventually settled into the discussion of their days. She suspected he was fond of the feel of her hair in his fingers, and since it felt good against her scalp she wasn’t going to stop him.

Despite the more amorous nature their conversations generally gravitated towards, it had been easy, and routine to eventually say goodnight and part ways to their respective beds once they grew weary.

That was until, the night before they made landfall on Elaaden—Jaal finally discovered that Sara’s neck existed, a thing they both discovered he _very_ much appreciated, as he hadn’t been able to peel his mouth _off_ of it for quite some time.

On this night, Sara managed to remember to ask Jaal whether or not he was aware that he was ever-so-slightly _zapping_ her on some occasions when his hands were on her. At first, he was immediately alarmed, and this confirmed what Sara had suspected in that he wasn’t even aware that he was doing it: the slight, pleasant tingling down her spine and up the span of her arms when they touched.

Once she was able to convince him that no, he wasn’t electrocuting her or causing any danger (SAM had even helpfully chimed in to splash a bit of technical jargon in order to drive the point home), Jaal was actually quite thoughtful about the prospect, even _pleased_ that she could feel the little reflexive signals he was sending her.

When she felt it down her spine, that one was obvious: love, and affection, and something of a gentle affirmative of this fact between two lovers, though since Sara’s neck was structured differently than an angara’s she didn’t have the right receptors to read it in that way. 

“And this…” Jaal had said, taking her hands in his before she felt the whisper of his current waft up her arms, making her hair stand on-end. “Is… an inquiry. That is the easiest way I can describe it.”

“You were asking me a question?” Sara asked, wanting to clarify. Jaal hadn’t been verbally asking her anything during those times, but it sounded like there was an underlying emotion that was supposed to be communicated as subtext that she hadn’t quite understood.

“Yes. It is a question of...intimacy.” Jaal paused then, his hands brushing her forearms as if to smooth out the sensations he’d imparted upon her. “It is asking another if your closeness is welcome.”

“You were asking me if I was okay with you being... affectionate?”

“Yes.” Jaal blushed, his gaze slipping sideways. “I had not realized you could feel that. It is normal to send those signals to those that we pursue, so I had not been thinking about it, though I was aware you could not respond as an angara would…”

“It’s okay,” Sara had needed to assure him that it hadn’t caused her any discomfort, and that she’d actually kind of _liked_ the way it felt.

Jaal eventually relaxed, emboldened by the knowledge that she could feel him, even slightly. That must have excited him, because he continued.

“This…” Jaal said after a moment, taking her hand to press it against his breast where she could feel the hardness of his sternum beneath the fabric of his shirt. “...Is how much I desire you.” Sara had stilled her breath, feeling something _else_ underneath the bone: a quick, pulsing vibration that seemed to move independently of his breath despite having a discernible rhythm to it, like a cycle. 

“It’s like you're purring,” Sara murmured fondly, blushing at the notion that this was _literally_ a manifestation of arousal that he was not shy about showing. It was actually quite thrilling in its frankness, and given that his pupils were always slightly dilated when they interacted in such close proximity, not entirely surprising.

It was actually really fucking sexy if Sara was being honest. Of course it wasn’t the _obvious_ physical response, but this was something _special_ , she thought.

“What is, a _purr?_ ” Jall rolled the _r’s_ in a perplexingly enticing way, perplexing in that it probably shouldn’t have been _enticing_ , but the near growl in his throat when he said it was enough to make Sara’s cheeks get uncomfortably hot.

“I’ll show you.”

Later, when Sara showed Jaal archived photos of cats, he would comment how their eyes were similar to an angara’s. Sara hadn’t initially noticed that, but realized it was likely why she’d subconsciously already registered that the feel of Jaal’s current under his chest reminded her of a purr.

Sara wasn’t attracted to cats, of course, but had always found their eyes to be quite pretty. That was probably why Jaal’s eyes were the first thing she’d noticed when meeting him. Now, she couldn’t quite help but get lost in the vibrancy of their sapphire depths.

“Your eyes were the first thing I noticed about you,” Sara had commented offhandedly that same night. “They’re really quite stunning.”

“Ah,” Jaal responded cheekily, though Sara saw the telltale stain of blue beginning to creep its way up his throat. “Would you say that is your favorite part of me?” Sara knew _immediately_ he was trying to get her to trip unsuspectingly into a more racy line of a dialogue, and if his eyes had anything to say about it, he was enjoying it.

“Ask me again when I’ve seen _all_ of you.” Sara crowed, unable to resist the tempting impulse to drape her hand back against his breast. If that was some sort of sign, she didn’t really know, but Jaal certainly _seemed_ excited by it.

“You have seen me naked already, dearest.” Clearly, Jaal was being coy. He seemed to delight in wheedling things out of her that she wouldn’t normally blurt out.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t _everything_ , was it?”

Jaal chuckled, the action making the vibration of his current under her fingers stutter. “That is true.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “In good time.”

“Though if this is the path you want to go down right now, you do have a very nice ass.” It even looked good underneath his armor, in the rare moments his rofjinn wasn’t covering his back. Sara wondered if she would have noticed had she not already gotten a generous glimpse of it the night he and Liam had been engaged in “armor diplomacy.”

 _Let’s not kid ourselves_ , Sara thought, reasoning that she most likely would have noticed eventually, as angara armor certainly _accentuated_ what it was meant to protect.

“ _Really?_ ” The lilt of mock disbelief suggested he wasn’t actually questioning her, but probably wanted her to elaborate.

“Uh huh, very round and smooth.” Sara thought, it was probably best to hastily change the subject by diverting to something else. Jaal’s supremely amused expression was enough to make her crack, his eyes sparkling and impossibly blue in the artificial light. “Looks like it would be nice to feel, and all that.” She flushed, knowing it was a weird thing to say, _also_ realizing it probably wasn’t the most effective way to change the subject.

“Are you asking to touch me, Sara?” It either _wasn’t_ weird, or Jaal simply didn’t care, but the devious little smirk on his face seemed to be an indication of his willingness to indulge her curiosity. “You do not have to ask, darling one. You may touch, or _kiss_ any part of me that you wish.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Sara had said pointedly, though now that he had opened that door she was insanely curious. Jaal was watching her with an intense level of scrutiny at this point, and maybe a little fascination of his own at her direction of inquiry and it was actually starting to make her fidget. “Uh—Enough about me, what about _you?_ ”

Jaal had indeed found a _favorite_ part of her that night, at least, he would say as much with something of a breathless grin once they’d finally parted. Maybe she had jumped the gun about it being easier than expected to not get overwhelmed by each other...

That made the reality of standing on Elaaden now, in the blistering, sweltering heat with a damn scarf around her neck under her armor to hide Jaal’s handiwork, something of a cruel punishment. She hadn’t had the opportunity to show him yet, running late to her meeting with Drack and his New Tuchanka contact due to her mad scramble to hide the raw marks Jaal had gifted her. Though, since he was already complaining about Elaaden’s heat despite not having set foot outside the Tempest yet, Sara relished the opportunity to give him hell for it later.

Drack however, was giving her some very funny looks as she walked next to him to the shuttle landing pad, the main thoroughfare to and from The Paradise: a small settlement comprised mostly of exiled Initiative turned scavenger and criminal. It made Sara itch on the inside, walking alone to meet her krogan crew member under the shaded walkways—necessary to protect the inhabitants from Elaaden’s damaging heat—because her very presence and connection to the Initiative was a personal insult to them. In _their_ minds at least. 

Sara had been largely sympathetic towards the exiles that the Initiative had cast aside in the uprising. Things had been desperate and bleak. The knowledge that you had unknowingly sentenced yourself to a slow death after a 600 year journey in cryosleep with no way back would have set anyone off. Then you get thrown out from the only safe place you knew into lands that were uncharted and foreign. You were isolated. If you were lucky, you were given some basic survival rations before being kicked out. That was if you got uppity enough to “pose a danger” to the greater good, and while on some level that seemed realistic, despite morally reprehensible, that meant that those remained lived on the precipice of feigned obedience. Sara thought, she would have been on the brink too.

Arriving the way the Hyperion did, only to find chaos and the kett on Habitat 7, had nearly broken her. It almost did, for awhile, until things had started to turn. Only recently had the conversations started to change to ones of hope, and even then, some people still took a dim view of her and what she represented as an Initiative “lap dog.”

Still, Sara managed to remain sympathetic and was largely successful at not letting it get to her and distract her from what was important. She understood, even if she didn’t have the same hopeless outlook anymore.

That sympathy however, was not currently extended to the inhabitants of The Paradise. They were rude, aggressive even, to the point that Sara had felt the need to keep her hand on her sidearm as she made her way to meet Drack. The wild-eyed, almost violent stares and vulgar shouts in her direction bordered on manic, like all the people here _weren’t quite right_. Sara would have been lying if she said that once she reached the massive, battering-ram named Drack she wasn’t a little bit relieved.

It was not a kind place, tidally locked to its sister moon, which meant that it never cooled and the sun was always lashing it with deadly heat and radiation. Sara would have wondered who in their right mind would create a permanent colony here, but then she remembered she was talking about the krogan. After Tuchanka, this place practically _was_ a paradise. They could stand the heat and radiation that her and the rest of the crew required life support systems for.

Remnant structures existed here: the same spires, and likely a vault that existed on the other planets they had managed to jump start, so that probably meant that Elaaden needed a tune-up as well. SAM more or less confirmed this observation when her line of sight followed the monoliths, intoning that this planet had been meant as a garden world. Well, _something_ had clearly gone wrong, and the vault was probably the key. 

There was also a crashed Remnant dreadnought, wedged high over the horizon in the distance just begging to be explored. Maybe, if she made nice with the krogan and managed to sufficiently smooth out the edges between them and the Initiative, this place wouldn’t be such a lost cause after all.

That was for later. Right now, Sara had a krogan issue to deal with, and for Drack’s sake that was what she was going to focus on. This was what he called home, and that was good enough for her.

“Why are you wearing that?” Drack muttered, startling Sara out of her bitter musings of the environment causing her so much pain. The krogan gestured to her neck. He _had_ noticed the strange additional garment she was wearing.

“It’s extra protection,” Sara lied, though technically it wasn’t wrong. “It’s like 200 degrees out here, and I don’t really want to find out what an Elaaden sunburn feels like.”

“Uh huh, and you think that thing around your neck is going to help?” the krogan looked at her sideways through narrowed, reptilian eyes, pointing emphatically at her neck. “In these temperatures you’re lucky that thing doesn’t catch on fire.”

“I wasn’t born on a nuclear wasteland, so I don’t have your thick hide to protect me from the radiation.”

“You say that, as if it isn’t a compliment.” Drack barked in amusement, the sound low and growling as he began the walk up the stairs to the landing pad. His voice carried over his shoulder. “Also, I can see those marks on your neck.”

Sara stopped abruptly mid-stride, flushing even hotter. “Fuck you, grandpa.” 

Drack didn’t comment on it further, but Sara heard him chuckle under his breath. She picked up her stride again, and caught up with him as he marched confidently over to the group of krogan loitering by a bunch of crates near the edge of the pad.

The two groups eyed each other for a moment, clearly untrusting. Sara spoke out first, addressing the krogan at the front of the group. He was leaning against a crate, yet seemed alert. “Are you Jorgal Strux?” Drack had given her a more thorough rundown of the situation on the Tempest before they’d deployed.

The krogan had been eyeing up Drack, but turned his head slowly. “Maybe,” he said, cautiously. “You who I think you are?”

Sara nodded. “I’m the Pathfinder from the Nexus.” She didn’t bother extending her hand out in greeting, sensing that it probably wouldn’t be accepted. “You asked me to meet you here?"

Strux stared at her for a moment, before nodding and standing up a little straighter so that he could face her directly. "Yeah. Thanks for coming."

Sara decided to opt for a diplomatic approach, though her words were also sincere. "Losing the krogan was a big deal to the Initiative." her eyes flicked up towards Drack, who gave a slight nod and grunted.

This seemed to satisfy Strux, at least enough for him to keep talking. "Look, the truth is I didn't want to leave the Nexus, but I had to support my people. And my clan."

“You had to have called us down here for more than just that.” She crossed her arms. “I’ve heard there is trouble at the colony."

Strux nodded. "It's heading to a bad place," he said, bluntly.

One of the other krogan standing around Strux—a female—interrupted. “We can’t _be_ there anymore.” Urgency strained her voice to the point it sounded pleading. This got Sara’s attention. Either the krogan was sincere in her agitation, or Strux had hired some good actors to help sell his plight.

“It’s about our matriarch, Morda. She’s become a tyrant,” Strux grunted, shifting on his feet in a worrying display that was rather unbecoming of a such a large, imposing species.

“And?” Sara asked, her tone perhaps a little callous, but the krogans weren’t typically known for rolling over. If something happened in the colony and Strux didn’t like it, something must have pushed him out, likely with a fight. “Did she kick you out or something?”

Strux shook his head. “Hasn’t come to that yet, so I’m lying low. But…” Strux looked around to make sure nobody was listening in. It was so painfully obvious that Sara grimaced a little. When Strux was satisfied, he leaned in closer to her. Drack leaned in a little too. “Morda is planning a strike on the Nexus.”

Sara frowned. “Are you talking about an invasion, or some kind of direct attack?” Even just a few armed krogan aboard the Nexus—if they got past its defenses somehow—could cause countless damage and loss of life. She was just starting to tally the potential losses when Strux’s words cut through her like glass.

“I mean she’s planning to destroy it. Wholesale.” 

Sara’s blood ran cold. Obliterating an entire space station of unsuspecting colonists was a far cry beyond simple _tyrant_ as far as Sara was concerned. There were a number of other labels that Sara could call to mind that would describe such an action: terrorist being the primary candidate. While the krogan weren’t exactly wrong for being upset about how the Initiative had treated them, that didn’t justify murdering innocent people and effectively sentencing them all to extinction in Andromeda.

Sara was stunned, but she didn’t want to give it away, so she steeled herself and looked at Strux with as calm an expression as she could muster. “And you’re telling me this out of the kindness of your heart?” If the krogan had a motive, concern for the Nexus would have been the last thing she expected. As far as she knew, they hadn’t exactly parted the Initiative on good terms, though she hadn’t been thawed out yet to see it go down.

“Like I said, my group wants peace with the Nexus, Pathfinder.” Strux balked, perhaps sensing her lack of trust in his intent. “And Krogan need food and water just like everyone else. Morda is rationing. She’s going to run the colony into the ground, and torching any possible goodwill left with the Initiative will screw us all.”

“Blowing up an entire colony station would destroy more than just goodwill, to put it lightly.” Sara sighed, knowing this was not something she could ignore. Reservations aside, she had to push down any prejudice she might have harbored towards the krogan resulting from their decision to leave. She hadn’t been there, she couldn‘t entirely _blame_ them, because if everything they had claimed was true, they had really gotten the raw end of the deal when the Initiative had decided to rescind promises made.

They’d all come to Andromeda as one, and they needed each other. If Sara could do anything here on this stupid planet, it would be to prove that they could put aside lingering doubts and resentment and rely on each other for the greater good. After all, her priority was not to make the _Initiative_ comfortable, but to ensure that _everyone_ —not just the humans—in Andromeda could thrive.

That was what she’d come to see her purpose as, Tann, or Addison be damned.

“OK,” she said, eventually. She looked Strux in the eyes. “Where do we begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That damn BATH............ >_>


	11. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara's success on Elaaden precedes another poorly timed discussion about boundaries with Jaal, that leads to some heated (and maybe wet) results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I'm back after a lengthy vacation and an extended delay as I worked through a whole bunch of problems and such that prevented me from sitting down and getting this together. Elaaden wasn't exactly my favorite part of the game, so on top of everything else I struggled through this a bit, and finding a balance of the actual game plot points with my own additions. I tried to come up with something that worked, as I wanted to get focused again on the *important* stuff, like Sara and Jaal struggling not to pounce on each other.
> 
> I also realized that I'd been spelling Elaaden wrong the whole time, so I went back and fixed it. Think I caught them all.
> 
> Updates should be more regular from here on out.

Sara had been hoping to explore the Remnant derelict at some point before they’d left Elaaden behind. She just hadn’t expected that it would be right away.

She also hadn’t been expecting to face down an aggressive, agitated krogan matriarch when she woke up that morning, but so far Elaaden was not lean on the surprises.

As she stood at the broken remains of a Remnant dreadnought, her legs sinking into the sand past the ankle, she could not help but wonder what the ship’s purpose had been when it had been in better shape. It could have been a warship as far as she knew, though it was hard to tell the exact function when it came to Remnant technology.

That was why, it was such a tempting prize for scavengers it would seem, and Morda was not an exception when it came to wanting what it had inside that so far nobody else had been able to reach: the drive core.

Nobody had succeeded in getting through the barriers and passageways to get to it, as Sara was told in unusually frantic whispers from distraught krogan. Morda’s demolition crews had tried, but the Remnant defenses and locked down passageways had been effective at protecting what was still intact inside. Sara had something they didn’t: SAM, and the ability to integrate with their technology, which would prove to be handy when trying to get through those tricky locks.

In the wrong hands, the drive core could be used to fashion a pretty spectacular bomb. One large enough to destroy a massive space station, which was why they had to secure it first.

To say that Sara’s attempted meeting with Morda had gone poorly would have been the understatement of the century. They’d gotten into the colony easy enough: Drack was a very effective security pass when it came to getting her past the krogan guards flanking the front approach into New Tuchanka. As soon as she’d walked into the large, cavernous space that the matriarch considered her “throne room” the krogan had begun throwing aggressive looks and barking orders at her— _“Hey Nexus, I’m the one you talk to around here.”_ Her name was _Nexus_ now, apparently—so Sara couldn’t have ignored her if she tried. If not for Drack’s presence at her side, it was entirely possible she would have been thrown into the fighting pits to die without even getting a chance to speak.

“This is thrilling. I’ve never stood this close to a Pathfinder before, mostly because the krogan never got one.” Morda looked down at her, wide, almost amphibian lips curled in a snarl. Sara flinched, knowing Morda’s words to be technically true and feeling her own guilt at being somewhat complicit, indirectly or not.

“You want my job? I didn’t apply for it.” Sara realized with a pang of horror that employing sarcasm was not her smartest of moves, but Drack’s grunt of amusement behind her had probably been enough to diffuse things and prevent her from getting flattened into a pancake. She was probably feeling emboldened and a little bit safer than she had any right to be with her own krogan backup. It had seemed like there was no love lost between the two of them, as they’d exchanged very brief, unpleasant acknowledgment of each other when they’d first approached. Drack _knew_ Morda, but didn’t appear to necessarily _like_ her.

“What do you want, Pathfinder? You here to see what a successful colony looks like?” Morda loomed, closing in on her to the point that Sara had to resist the impulse to step back, but she hadn’t wanted to appear submissive; that would be a death sentence when it came to dealing with krogan.

It was suddenly a good thing that Jaal had not come with her. He probably would have stepped between them impulsively to defend Sara whether she’d asked him to or not. While Sara trusted that Drack wouldn’t let her be harmed, having two allies at her back that could meet the matriarch eye-to-eye would have been a little bit more comforting. But on the other hand, having a blunt, aggressively unimpressed angara with the instinct to defend her wouldn’t have helped when delicate political negotiation was needed.

She didn’t really _need_ to be defended, though, she wasn’t going to admit that she didn’t mind it coming from Jaal…

Given her impulsive need to be sarcastic to everyone with even a whiff of adversarial intent Sara might have needed it anyway.

Especially considering her first urge was to snap back _“You call this a successful colony?”_ as she looked around, but that level of disrespect wouldn’t have helped her case.

It wasn’t that it was a failing colony, but, things definitely looked _rough_. And by all accounts that Sara had heard things were certainly struggling. But, the krogan had clearly been successful in areas the Initiative hadn’t before she’d arrive, so there wasn’t really an option to be smug. The krogan weren’t _stupid_ , and actually had a penchant for being quite innovative when backed into a wall. They’d had the good sense to build the colony in a sinkhole, where the temperatures were cooler than on Elaaden’s barren surface. It had only taken them one attempt to establish something that hadn’t been obliterated by the harsh elements or the kett, which was something the Initiative couldn’t say so far.

“I understand why you don’t trust me,” Instead, Sara tried to be diplomatic, which earned her nothing.

“You understand _nothing_ , human.” Morda’s words held the underlying pain and frustration of centuries of mistrust and neglect towards her species, that much Sara had recognized.

“I understand that the krogan have succeeded in areas that we’ve struggled. We could use the advice.” Next, Sara tried being humble, but that didn’t work on Morda either.

“Your manipulation is so transparent. Get out of my sight before you end up with a new hole on that pretty face of yours for the Initiative to screw.”

_That_ , had pissed Sara off beyond coherent thought, but she’d been careful to not show it until her and Drack were alone near the fighting pits. He’d seemed sympathetic, also surprised at how hard-assed Morda had become, but his pity wasn’t something she was interested in.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Sara muttered, seeing out of the corner of her eye another krogan approach from the left. She steeled herself, anticipating some sort of ambush assuming Morda had decided she wasn’t quite done with them yet. Instead, this krogan seemed to be equally concerned with the state of things and had wanted to speak to her about the delicate situation she’d been hearing about since landing on Elaaden.

Brenk, she remembered his name being, had more or less confirmed that things were not quite right at the colony, though he hadn’t offered much else because he’d seemed unwilling to speak freely. He had revealed that their current pursuit—the drive core—was what Morda was after and had been unsuccessful at obtaining it so far.

At large, the krogan in the colony actually did not have any desire to jeopardize a relationship with the Nexus, tenuous and fragile as it may be, so Sara’s presence in the colony was an opportunity for them to extend those first feelers of tentative friendship; even if they had to go behind Morda’s back to do it. It was encouraging many of them to speak, despite the very real danger it apparently posed to their safety, and Brenk was no exception. The krogan were not known for being easily spooked, so if something had them on-edge, it was certainly worth paying attention to.

If Morda was successful in building that bomb, well, an opportunity for shaky alliance would be vaporized along with all of the people still living under the Initiative banner. They had to get to that drive core before anyone else did, at the very least, to keep _anyone_ from using it for less than noble purposes.

That led to where Sara stood with Jaal now outside the parked Nomad, the relentless desert sun beating down on them; to really hit the point home that this planet wasn’t meant to be inhabited by anything that didn’t have a thick layer of skin capable of withstanding a nuclear holocaust.

The gaping hole where the ship had cracked in two was like a hungry maw, jagged metal and ripped structural supports like teeth reflecting Elaaden’s unyielding star. As far as Sara had been able to tell, and as much as SAM could ascertain structurally, this was the only opening that anyone could reach without heavy equipment.

“Explain to me again, why we are here?” Jaal groused, clearly irritated as he shuffled up next to her in the sand. He was sinking even further than Sara, his weight advantage on her a clear detriment in these circumstances. His far more tactile feet offered no help in the loosely shifting grains, and this must have annoyed him to no end because he had been complaining about it since stepping off the Tempest.

“SAM says we need to get through a couple locked passageways to get to the drive core.” Sara gestured into the dreadnaught’s renovated main entrance, checking the scans on her Omni-tool one last time. She looked at him sideways, and could not help but notice the striking figure he cut back in his armor and rofjinn. Elaaden did not have much in the way of the breeze, but whatever air moved picked up the blue fabric like it weighed nothing at all. Now was not an appropriate time to tell him that, however, as the general feel of his expression was that of someone who wanted to die.

“Maybe, there will be less sand in there.”

“You are _cranky_ ,” Sara poked, unable to resist the impulse to jab a finger against his side teasingly. While Jaal did manage a slightly lopsided smirk, Sara recognized that he was really not in the mood to joke around.

“There is sand in places it has no business being. You have no idea how much I _suffer_.”

It was probably not the best time to bring up the nice little marks he’d left her on her neck either, so she thought about saving that for when they weren’t standing around in a desert slowly sinking. “I’ll help you with that later, _paripo_.”

_That_ somehow encouraged a slight shifting on Jaal’s face, an acknowledging grin at the endearment so that was at least something. Jaal’s fondness for pet names had overruled any annoyance he may have had at her un-ironic use of one his mother had teasingly gave him, so it broke through his mood enough to put a sparkling in his eye.

It was short-lived however, as his foot got caught in the sand when he tried to take a step forward, making him stumble.

“Please let us get this over with.” He growled.

He didn’t have to ask her twice, as Sara didn’t exactly enjoy being out in Elaaden’s desert either. She too, had sand finding its way between the cracks and plating of her armor, and it was rubbing against her skin beneath her biosuit in a very unpleasant way. Add the sweat, and accompanying persistent itch to that, and Sara really just wanted to be back on the Tempest with her armor pried off and standing under a spray of cold water.

Until then, they had a job to do.

Drack had already entered the derelict, and Sara suspected he felt personally responsible for what they had already encountered. His disbelief at the rumors of what Morda’s plans really were had set off something of a determined aggression in the krogan; a protectiveness towards anyone who might be in the matriarch’s way. Sara knew that Morda’s actions weren't his fault, but given as old as he was—he’d seen the krogan uprising and had experienced first-hand the repercussions of the decisions from both sides—he seemed to be harboring a deep sense of accountability for the dirtying of whatever clean slate the krogan had been hoping for in Andromeda.

There was also Kesh, who’d stayed behind on the Nexus out of an intense sense of duty and a need to preserve what they’d set out to do, and she was directly in the path of danger.

Steeling her jaw, Sara motioned for Jaal to follow her into the Remnant dreadnought after Drack, so they could get what they came for.

The ship had wedged itself deep into Elaaden’s sand, tilted face-down at an angle to create an interior slope in the direction of what must have been a seriously intense impact. It was eerily quiet here, cooler than the surface as they picked their way through up-ended Remnant hardware and long-quiet bots that looked as if they had been still for years.

It was always hard to tell just what sort of beings had once occupied these chambers, even harder still, when the ship was spun over 90 degrees sideways and in a complete state of upheaval. SAM had theorized long ago that whoever had left all of this behind must have been similar in physiological design to any of the bipedal species from the Milky Way; Heleus included, as the angara seemed to look strangely at home and natural amongst the spaces, having developed something of an understanding on how to manipulate their technology just based on their proximity to it.

It was scarce compared to what SAM allowed her to do, but it called to mind an adaptability, as if they were meant to be there and had somehow forgotten something important over the ages.

A thin layer of sand had collected over the darkened surfaces making their descent difficult, forcing Sara to brace herself against old piping and framework to keep her balance on several occasions. Jaal had to reach out and grab her arm once or twice to prevent her from sliding all the way down to the bottom, where she would have probably knocked against the hard, uneven surfaces to end up in various states of injury. The ship itself was dark, any life to the machinery that may have survived the crash long-since died out.

Once they reached the bottom where the ship’s hull had buckled to create a flat surface, Sara activated the mounted flashlight on her armor. Suddenly they were bathed in vivid blue illumination, creating blank shadows behind broken bits of the ship that seemed to completely remove parts of the environment in their blackness. There was nearly no light at this depth, the open chasm they had descended from the only source of the outside now suddenly far in the distance. The incline back up looked deceivingly high, the opening back out onto Elaaden’s bright surface suddenly small, and Sara was definitely not looking forward to making the climb back up.

They met Drack who already stood at the first barrier in their way, the path to him bathed in unsettling darkness, like they were walking through some sort of haunted structure. Immediately Sara saw the evidence left by the previous attempts to get deeper into the ship, scorch marks and dents peppered the surface of the blast doors in what was obviously unsuccessful brute force.

“SAM, how are we going to get through here without power?” Sara frowned, looking around as her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. Drack looked like a giant shifting mass with his back turned to her, and Jaal’s eyes appeared to be lit from within when she turned to make sure he was behind her.

“It appears the ship remained in emergency stand-by mode after the crash until its systems timed-out. I can attempt to initiate this again at the console.”

The initial search took them a few hours, SAM’s brute force access into the old systems allowing Sara to manipulate the scattered Remnant consoles as needed. After an exhaustive slog through more Remnant bot shells, traipsing across sideways hallways and jumping over fractured platforms, they stood at the chamber that housed the drive core. There was one problem: the drive core was missing.

Drack had taken this discovery especially hard, lamenting in his krogan way (which included lots of shouting and slamming a fist into a derelict console, causing it to spark). “This has to be Morda’s team. They got to it first.”

“That doesn’t sound particularly plausible,” Sara said thoughtfully, standing in the doorway they had come from to peer back out, as if she would glean some sort of new wisdom from the inky shadows. “There was clearly only one way in, from what we’ve seen. Without SAM, they wouldn’t have been able to get through any of those doors.” She frowned.

“That might not necessarily be the case…” Jaal’s voice echoed from further into the room, around a corner at the opposite end where he had slipped to without notice. Sara looked up at Drack, who had paused in his efforts to give the console a new hole, to follow her to the location where Jaal’s voice emanated from. They found him crouched on the floor, holding something in his hands, and when Sara touched his shoulder he turned to face her with a frown.

“This is not Remnant.” He stood, handing Sara what he held in his hand. It was long and cylindrical, one end charred from some sort of chemical flame.

“It’s a flare…” Sara rotated it in her hands, recognizing the same construction from the Nexus and the Tempest store room. “Looks like it belongs to the Initiative. How’d it get down here?”

“Scavengers, maybe?” Drack asked. “Lots of Initiative tech floating around.”

Jaal gestured with the barrel of his rifle towards the ground, where several more flares dotted the passageway forward, one they had not seen when originally coming in. “There are more of them leading down this path.” Hidden behind columns and piles of debris, it was easily missed.

Sara shrugged, tossing the used flare onto the ground. The clank of it hitting the metal plating echoed across the cavernous, empty room. “Let’s see where these take us.” Directing her flashlight through the open hole, she saw more hallways and broken bulkhead, ominously illuminated to the point that Sara could swear things were moving in the shadows; Remnant bots, maybe, though she couldn’t hear them, and nothing was shooting at them yet so that was always a plus. Resisting the animal impulse to not walk into an abandoned place with poor visibility, she steeled her nerve again, and they passed through.

It didn’t take long for them to recognize from the gradual incline that the flares led back up to the surface. It was a much shorter journey, aided by doors that had been forcefully pried open by whomever had clearly looted the drive core, though as of yet it still wasn’t entirely clear _who_. Eventually, the final blast door that had been peeled apart revealed another hallway that led upwards towards Elaaden’s topside. Harsh sunlight flooded in to create an intense glare off the shimmering remnant surfaces, and Sara had to shield her adjusting eyes as they made their ascent.

Hidden behind a large sand dune, and partially obstructed by fallen portions of the ship’s hull, this breach had remained hidden from their initial scans. But clearly, someone had known about it.

“This is what we get for coming through the right entrance,” Drack growled, Jaal’s pessimism clearly infectious. He looked torn between slamming his fist into the siding of the wreck and opting to keep the bones of his fist intact. Sara wagered that battered as it was, the hull could probably withstand a single krogan punch.

Sara could also sense that both the gentleman around her were about to lose it one way or another, so she thought about poking the snake a little bit for fun. Her face was wry as she stepped off the plating of the broken ship and struggled to find a foothold in the loose sand beyond. “Oh, I don’t know… we’re back out in Elaaden’s beautiful… scorching hot day…” It helped her own sanity at any rate, as these conditions were starting to make her go a little bit crazy.

Jaal huffed. “In a place where it’s never _not_ day…” he added, helpfully. Sara noticed the disdain in his voice as he looked down, clearly not relishing the need to step off the remains of the ship and back out into the horrible sand.

Sara turned and pointed at Jaal, the sun already started to make her sweat. “You can stand there forever if you want, but you and I are going to have a private chat later about your attitude.” It was getting exponentially harder to hide the strain in her voice, because her whole body was covered in a thin film of moisture under her armor. It _sucked_. It was soaking into the scarf around her neck, making her skin itch where Jaal had lavished her with attention the night before and she couldn’t help but scowl at him now.

Jaal halted while in the middle of brushing sand off his shoulders. “Private?” He sounded surprisingly eager despite his mood, though his face turned when he noticed her unamused expression. Normally Sara would have found the appropriate response to his enthusiasm, but it was hard to keep up the flirtatious facade in 100 plus temperatures. She was currently more invested in hoping his comment would go unnoticed when Drack dashed her hopes against the dunes.

“If I had a quad for every time you two made a pass at each other, I would be the most potent male in Andromeda,” Drack grumbled, as he began to slog through the sand, back out into the relative direction of the parked Nomad on the _opposite_ end of the derelict. Sara hadn’t even thought of that, and it made her groan with another flare of annoyance at the realization that they had to walk all the way around the ship.

“That sounds very cumbersome,” Jaal said drolly, and Sara couldn’t stop the peel of laughter that burst from her throat when Drack wobbled around, jabbing a large, clawed finger in Jaal’s general direction.

“Don’t you start with me. We know you two want more time to add some more of those welts all over your bodies, but _now_ we need to follow that drive core.”

“What are these...welts?” Jaal asked, a note of concern in his voice as he glanced back at Sara, though she brushed him off, not entirely in the mood to have _this_ conversation with him right now in the middle of the desert.

“I’ll tell you later.” Sara said, and Jaal looked at her with a concerned frown. “In _private_.” Whatever uncertainty was running through his mind at that moment was temporarily abated as his eyes glittered. 

The amorous glimmer was short-lived, however, as he stepped out and immediately sank deep into the sand with a flurry of muttered curses.

“I’m not sure what’s going to kill me first,” Drack grumbled. “The heat, this blasted sand, or you two. Maybe I should just end it now.”

“We could use your body as a sandboard,” Sara joked, reaching Drack’s position with relative ease. “Ride the dunes back to the ship.” She felt her annoyance temporarily abated by the opportunity to pass the krogan struggling to walk at a reasonable pace.

“It sounds like you’re calling me fat.” Drack was side-eyeing her, as Sara wasn’t particularly being discreet about having a relatively easier time navigating each step. She would have been lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying making a bit of a show of it. It was a decent distraction from her own misery.

“You do make remarkably efficient cover in a firefight.” Sara shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

“That’s what your boyfriend is for—” Drack scoffed, though under his normal thunderous growl, Sara could tell that he was joking. “—To be a meat shield during combat.” Jaal would have probably said something smart in retort to this, but he was so focused on not missing a step it was possible he hadn't heard it. Or he had and was choosing to ignore it, just out of sheer spite for being dragged out of the Tempest for what some may say had been a monumental waste of time.

“But then I wouldn’t be able to look at his pretty face if I was standing behind him, now would I?” Sara chirped, and _finally_ she heard Jaal chuckle under his breath and it made her heart flutter. She probably shouldn’t make fun of him too much, as she wasn’t exactly faring well either on Elaaden, but _dammit_ they had suffered through Voeld while Jaal had taken every opportunity to rub it in their faces that he could have run around _naked_ in those sub-zero temperatures without any problems. “You’re wider, so you have more surface area to soak up more bullets.” 

“That’s true.” Drack chuckled. “What can I say. I’m good at my job.”

As they made their way back to the Nomad, _eventually_ , without suffering more than a little bit of heatstroke, Sara finally thought to ask the obvious. One thing was clear: there was no way it had been Morda who had the drive core. They’d seen the attempts at forced entry, and if she had known about this other entrance why have her people still try and break in? Unless… they’d found it later?

Whatever the reality of the situation was, none of it seemed to bode particularly well for the Initiative, as everyone on this damn planet had been _wronged_ by them at some point; in their own head or not.

“Alright SAM, we need to track that drive core. Any ideas?” Jaal’s hand brushed against her lower back just as she spoke, when he passed behind her to take a seat in the Nomad’s open door. She gave him a fond look, glad that he wasn’t sour enough to take it out on her.

“I was able to record an energy signature from the drive core housing. I am transmitting the data to the Tempest now.”

“Tempest, you getting this?” Sara immediately pulled the Tempest communication channel.

“Yes Ryder,” Suvi’s smooth, cheerful voice filtered into the group’s shared comm link. It was almost grating. “We can trace it, but it’s going to be tricky from our position. It won’t be a full scan.” Sara had the vision of Suvi and Kallo sitting comfortably in the Tempest cockpit, in cool, climate-controlled air and she suddenly wanted to end the conversation as quickly as possible before she snapped unnecessarily.

“Do what you can.” Muting her end of the link for the time being she looked at Jaal, who was making adjustments on his rifle in silence until he finally glanced at her. He nearly filled the entire opening of the Nomad, and it was a miracle both him and Drack had even fit in it.

He also looked mildly bothered by something, _aside_ from Elaaden in general, and Sara had a feeling that she knew what it was. _Fine_ , may as well get it over with.

Stepping up onto the lip of the Nomad door, Sara could hover over Jaal from this perch while she gripped the upper-edge of the doorframe. Jaal followed her movements, momentarily intrigued as Sara pressed a kiss to his heated brow, though he frowned once Sara met his eyes again.

With a resigned sigh, and maybe even a bit of relief, she peeled the scarf off her neck with one hand. Sara saw the look on Jaal’s face morph from curiosity into something close to horrified the moment he must have realized what she had been hiding. With her head tilted sideways to show him the blotchy red marks, his hand flew to her shoulder as if thinking to cover them then changing his mind at the last second.

“Sara, what—”

“It’s _fine_. It happens.” Sara touched his hand and squeezed, unable to resist the urge to smirk knowingly at him. “...When someone spends a _bit_ too much time with their mouth over one spot…”

Jaal was either flushed from the heat, or the remembrance of the night before—he’d really spent a _long_ time sucking and nipping at her neck, only coming up for air long enough to crash against her lips again. Sara had been enjoying it far too much to even think of stopping him, so she hadn’t been entirely surprised to wake up the next morning with the very obvious evidence.

“It’s not _you_.” Sara thought to add, under her breath so as not to let Drack hear, though she was certain he could hear every word they were saying anyway. He was standing some feet away sunning himself like a madman, though that was probably a clumsy attempt at giving them space. “So, it’s not some sort of weird incompatibility. Happens with humans too.” More than humans, in fact. Not that Sara knew from experience, but she’d heard many times of what could happen between humans and some of the other species, but somehow people just made it work.

It was frankly shocking that there weren’t any real incompatibilities between her and Jaal considering they were born in neighboring galaxies. They almost seemed _too_ perfectly compatible, though that was probably Sara being too lovestruck and romantic about the whole thing.

“Does it hurt?” Jaal was still frowning, though thankfully he seemed a bit more at ease now that he had been assured she wasn’t about to die from his tongue—though, _that_ was still a possibility, just under different context.

“No,” Sara laughed, trying to get such a weirdly timed inappropriate thought out of her mind. “A bit sore, maybe just take it easy there for a little while. Maybe spread it out a bit.” Placing another kiss on his forehead through her own smile, she was pleased to hear a chuckle out of him.

“I think I can manage that.”

The timing was almost perfect, because Suvi piped back into the comm that moment just as Jaal’s hand slipped up her thigh before stopping with a start. “Ryder, I think I’ve got something. I’ve updated your nav system.”

“Alright, let’s go.” She gave Jaal a playfully knowing look before jumping away from him off the Nomad, back onto the dry ground. Climbing into the driver’s seat, Sara settled herself in for the long haul, pulling up the nav details on the front console as Jaal seated himself behind her. Drack finally shuffled over from his place of respite some distance away, though he did so with a good-natured scowl as he slumped into the remaining open door.

“You two are going to make me sick.”

“Deal with it Drack. You’ve got legs. If you don’t like it, you can walk.” Firing up the Nomad, the engine rumbled to life before evening out to a steady _thrum_. Sara released the brake with the haptic panel and accelerated, perhaps a bit more aggressively than necessary as the vehicle jerked forward.

“I’m thinking I just might.”

***

Hours later Sara was about to kill the first thing that walked into her path on the way to the Tempest showers once they’d reached orbit. Hours of tracking, searching and fighting through hordes of scavengers later, they found the drive core in a run-down flophouse wedged into the side of Elaaden’s dry, cragged cliffs.

And as it turned out, they’d made some wild assumptions about what had happened, though what angered Sara far more was that they’d been duped. _Someone_ had lied to them, and she knew exactly who.

They found the drive core, safe and packed away in a cave system underneath the flophouse, and it became immediately apparent that it hadn’t been Morda who put it there. It only took a few datapads hidden behind stupidly simple security codes to ascertain that Strux’s name was all over them; the very krogan who had manipulated her heartstrings and implored her to help them deal with Morda in the first place.

So Sara had the bright idea to confront Morda and Strux together, just to see _who_ exactly was being upfront with her...

“Hello _Nexus_. Seems you’re still alive.” Morda droned, clearly disappointed in such a development though what was more intriguing was the look of complete vindication on Strux’s face from his spot standing behind her a few paces away. That was at least the extent that Sara could read on the krogan’s facial features. “Now where’s my drive core? Strux says you took it from _my_ ship.”

“He did, did he? First, that’s not your ship. It’s in unclaimed territory. I checked the maps. Second, funny he should mention that to you considering I never spoke to him about any _drive core_.” Now Strux shifted, his reptilian eyes staring holes right into her face aghast, as if he couldn’t quite believe that she had the nerve. If looks could _kill_. “Maybe you should ask him how he knows we even have it.”

“Stay out of it Nexus!” Morda spat, though there was a crack in her voice that told Sara she’d found a spot; a _weakness_ , in that there was definitely something Strux had conveniently left out and Morda had just figured it out.

There was a beat of hesitance, where Morda stared her down, Strux shifted again a step back as if to bolt but only just realized then that Drack was standing behind him blocking his escape.

Sara also shifted a step back again towards Jaal, but with different intentions, and muttered to him. “Wait for it. This is about to get good.”

What followed was about the most entertaining thing that had happened so far that day, a display of krogan dominance so one-sided that it almost wasn’t fair. Strux, had carried with him a grudge towards clan Nakmor all the way from the Milky Way. Convinced that his clan Jorgal knew better than Morda did, he’d used the Pathfinder as a pawn between them, which made Sara not at all guilty to watch him get his ass handed to him by a much more physically capable matriarch.

And all it took was Sara mentioning to Morda that Strux had contacted her, and that was the only thing the matriarch needed to hear in order to throw Strux out of the colony. Maybe if Strux hadn’t _actually_ been planning to use the drive core to bring the Initiative to its knees, Sara might have even felt a little bit bad for him.

That had apparently been enough to impress Morda, because once Sara had relented in letting the drive core stay with the krogan, she had agreed to allow the Initiative to build an outpost in New Tuchanka’s shadow.

Time would tell if Morda had an ulterior motive. Sara wanted to believe that the krogan matriarch’s gratitude for Sara’s loyalty was genuine but they’d been burned before. She was willing to give them that chance though, and was willing to believe Morda’s word that the drive core would be used to power New Tuchanka. She _could_ have taken it for Prodromos or Taerve Uni, but technically Morda had found it first. The Initiative taking it would have been sleazy, and would have done absolutely nothing to better their relationship with the krogan.

Besides, what could Morda do with an Initiative colony sitting right next to them? There wouldn’t be much she could hide at any rate, and they really needed another win. Sara supposed the offer to have the Initiative anywhere _near_ them was sort of a security deposit in its own right.

Not everyone had agreed with her decision, and Sara had just about had it with arguing her point with Vetra. And christ, even Kallo had removed himself from arguing with Gil over the comm long enough to debate the merit of giving the krogan a very large power source that could doom them all. Sara wasn’t ignorant to those possibilities, but was in no mood to discuss it further and barely managed to wriggle away from them to flee to her quarters for that much needed shower.

It was not meant to be, as SAM took that opportune time as she was one foot back into her room with her armor torn off, to notify her that Addison was waiting to speak to her on the vidcomm deck. It was good that Addison had decided not to grace this particular outpost with her presence, because that put her out of strangling reach. _Someday_ , Sara might actually be able to get clean.

So, Sara had put on her best politically neutral face and accepted the call.

“Director Addison? News travels fast I guess. No personal appearance for this one?”

“No. I prefer climate control to those extremes out there.” Sara gritted her teeth, and suddenly Jaal’s whining the entire day didn’t seem so absurd. “SAM sent a preliminary report through the Hyperion channels and Cora forwarded it to me. I actually wanted to thank you for bringing the krogan back. You averted a civil war.”

“I wouldn’t say I _brought them back_. They have every expectation of staying sovereign here. We’re their guests, so we’ll need to behave accordingly if we want a mutually beneficial relationship.”

“That makes sense. It’s still a win, as far as I’m concerned.” Addison paused, and even through the shimmering ripple of her projected figure Sara detected a slight smirk. “Though Tann is not pleased with your decision to leave the drive core with the krogan. He says it is reckless.”

“You know, it’s hard to calculate how few fucks I give about Tann’s opinion.”

Addison _actually_ laughed, which was not something Sara was used to hearing. “I’m not going to touch that one.”

“Anything else?” Sara was eager to get to her shower. It was an oasis, a _beacon_ , that seemed so far away…

“That will be all, Pathfinder.” Addison was at least calling her Pathfinder now, something she had refused to do on principle when the Hyperion first limped into the Nexus port. Addison hadn’t exactly been kind to Sara then, dismissive and hostile, though hindsight told her she probably had a reason to be, given their own dire straits. It had still hurt, having just lost her father, going through the ordeal on Habitat-7, and then _dying_ , only to be met with such terrible reception.

Though now, maybe Sara was moving up in the world. Three outposts so far, and more and more Initiative people being woken up from their deep sleep everyday with the additional resources finally being cultivated to support them. Prodromos and Taerve Uni were growing, and _producing_. A small, bare-bones economy had even gotten jump-started, with a rudimentary trade system now in place between the Initiative and the angara. Some angara were even living on the Nexus now. So, maybe Sara had earned a little bit of that title at this point, even if she’d never wanted it.

She still had to find the turian ark, so that was next on her list with the ever-pressing Meridian issue and the need to connect with Cora and see where her and the other Pathfinders were at. Then maybe she’d start to feel like she deserved the title the others had earned; that Alec Ryder had given her before he’d died and without her having the ability to refuse.

But first, she was focused on a shower.

With recent successes on her mind, Sara’s steps were a bit lighter when she finally made her way to the Pathfinder quarters to find that longed for bliss, until she realized halfway down the hall that she had used the last of her Initiative-issue shampoo the night before.

Stopping with a full-bodied sigh, Sara spun around to make her way back to the crew showers where the supplies were stored. She passed by Drack’s booming voice and Vetra’s higher-pitched flanging vocals in the crew quarters, as they discussed something about her recent allocations and open-faced sandwiches. Their voices followed her to the showers where the door was shut, and that was when she realized that they were occupied.

Of _course_ it was, and she knew who it was too, remembering that Jaal had been very insistent that he be the first to use the showers when they returned, and by the look on his face nobody had dared to challenge him.

Sara sensed Jaal hadn’t locked the door, as she’d learned from experience he wasn’t shy about those sorts of things, but common sense compelled her to still be polite.

_“SAM, is Jaal in the shower still?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Can you ask him if it’s okay if I come in?”_ There was silence for a beat, as SAM disappeared to filter her question directly to the angaran occupant currently on the other side of the door.

_“He says that you do not need to ask to see him...nude.”_

_“Oh god, SAM.”_ Jaal was being a smart-ass, she knew it, and could almost see the self-satisfied smirk on his face when he told the AI to tell her that. SAM had even hesitated that time, like he was learning what Sara’s likely reaction was going to be to certain things he said. “Tell him to drown in that shower, otherwise I’ll do it myself.” She said it loud enough as she walked in with the intent for Jaal to hear her, though she wondered if he could under the loud, pressurized spray of the water.

The room was warm, and steamed over from the heat, fogging up the mirrors at the wall of sinks on the far end. Jaal had been in there a long time. Sara could hear the shower still running, and part of her was so, so tempted to approach the stall to sass back at him about using all the hot water, but seeing as there were no doors she would basically be barging in on him. Technically, he’d given her permission, and Sara knew he probably wouldn’t care—unabashed as he was—but that was precisely part of the problem, as _she_ would get flustered with him all naked… and wet…

And he’d probably make a flippant comment about her coming in to share the hot water with him, and it would most definitely be _innocent_ , but she’d be dead so it wouldn’t matter.

Scoffing to herself, Sara couldn’t help but smile as she traipsed over to the storage shelving on the opposite end where the extra toiletries were kept. If they were a couple now, eventually she was going to have to get over her hang-ups about nudity and just be comfortable with it. But, the context was so _different_ now—or rather, it seemed to be for her, as the only person who wasn’t having a hard time _not_ sexualizing Jaal’s body was _Jaal_ himself. Angara just weren’t like that, but she supposed she should be glad that Jaal was so patient and understanding about her frustrating cultural norms. Lord knew she had to tolerate plenty of his.

Sara was so internally worked up about the whole thing—imagining _pouncing_ on him—as she dug through the shelving to grab shampoo that she hadn’t noticed the shower stop running, and she _definitely_ didn’t hear Jaal’s padding footsteps as he entered the room behind her.

“Darling one?” Maybe he was puzzled as to why she was even in the room, as she’d left that part out when imploring SAM to ask if she could enter, but his voice seemed intrigued; maybe even a little bit _pleased_ at her presence and Sara indulged herself in thinking that maybe he knew as much as she did that she had no misconceptions about what scenario she was walking into.

“I needed to get some shampoo.” Sara didn’t know what she was expecting when she turned around—actually, she probably knew exactly what to expect, which was why she turned around in the first place. “—Oh, you’re naked again.”

Naked indeed he was, or, _partially_ naked rather, as he’d had the foresight to cover his lower half with a towel, probably for _her_ benefit knowing how weird she’d acted the first time he’d sauntered into the room bare-assed that one awkward night with Liam. Sara actually felt a swell of affection for his attention to this detail, and his desire to not flash himself around if she wasn’t comfortable with it yet. Even though she was aware that she wouldn’t exactly _see_ anything just yet, it was still nice to know that he cared.

Though, part of her was a little bit disappointed, but she hadn’t quite decided yet if that was weird or not. The room was suddenly feeling 10 degrees warmer, and she was either flushed from the humidity, or the fact that she very much wanted to keep eyeballing the rather convenient muscular ridge that ran the curve down either side of his hips, before disappearing beneath the towel.

“Typically that is how people clean their bodies.” Jaal was humoring her, though the next minute he frowned. “Sara, if this makes you uncomfortable please tell me. Perhaps I should have asked before entering the room—”

“ _No_ , you don’t have to.” Sara countered immediately. “I’m probably being very confusing to you and sending you mixed signals.” She finally looked at his eyes, and he looked so concerned it almost hurt.

“I understand that your people approach nudity in a very different way than the angara, and I wish to be sensitive to that.”

“I don’t want you to have to tip-toe around me, because we should be comfortable around each other like this.” She gestured in his general direction to get the point across, and he seemed to understand her then because he chuckled. “We _are_ weird about that and I don’t know why. But if we’re going to be intimate, then eventually we will see each other naked.”

Sara saw then, the glimmer in his eyes at this, and _damn_ , it was really hard to focus on just his face when her eyes kept wanting to wander down the length of his body. His skin almost glimmered in this light, with the moisture and heat in the air and the lingering water on his skin from the shower, like he was shimmering from the inside. Maybe he saw her staring then, because she heard the amused rattle in his voice before he spoke.

“I have said before, that you may touch, or kiss, any part of me that you wish. That includes looking, and you do not have to ask permission to admire me.”

“Was I being that obvious?”

“Yes.” He smirked then, eyes mischievous. “But it is invigorating, because it is _you_.”

“ _Oh_.” Sara blushed. “I’m the one who came into the room, knowing you were in here, so I don’t want you to have to hide your body because of me. There’s nothing shameful about it.” Sara looked around. “This is a weird conversation to have right now, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Jaal laughed, shifting. “Though it is why you are special.”

“Aaaw. I’m going to come over there now because I really want my arms around you.”

Jaal’s only response was to reach towards her with one hand, beckoning, and with a shaking, confident breath Sara moved into his space—his very _warm_ , wet space—and let herself be pulled in. Jaal was attentive and cautious, letting her move at her own pace, but she eased into him with growing boldness and allowed herself to settle against his very naked front. There was a towel there, but it was intimately close nonetheless, and it felt so wonderful and _necessary_.

And they had never really _embraced_ like this yet, and it was thrilling.

With her hands settling on his back, Sara could feel Jaal’s muscles move underneath his skin as her palms skirted up his spine. The back of his curved, hooded mantle trailed down into a defined, angular v-shape here, stopping just short of the small of his back, and it occurred to her that she would be very interested in tracking her fingers along it when the time was right.

“I’m sorry I barged in on you only to pull you into a discussion like this again. I promise that wasn’t what I intended.” Sara murmured, her cheek resting against his chest where she could feel the steady hum of his energy, and a rhythmic pulse somewhere deep inside him that was separate from his beating heart. His pulse was a bit faster than usual, more defined.

“Do not apologize for needing to assert your boundaries, Sara.” Jaal’s hands slid up her back, resting at her shoulder blades. “It is good to have these discussions. I want you to always be comfortable and ready to speak to me about such things.”

“While we stand here hugging and you’re practically naked.”

“ _Sara_ ,” Jaal chided, his amused puff of air kicking up Sara’s hair from where his chin rested on her crown. “You are terrible.” The smile was apparent in his voice. “Honest communication is a good foundation.” He sighed with content then, the action large and deep as he took in a breath.

“So… honest, it’s not that I don’t _want_ to look, but I’ve been trying really hard not to stare at you like you’re a piece of meat.”

“Humans draw many parallels between intimacy and food…”

“I have no idea how to respond to that.” Sara looked up at him, unable to resist the urge to purse her lips teasingly. “Although you _have_ compared my lips to _the sweetest fruit_.” Her voice was mockingly high, almost like she was daring him. “Maybe you need to double-check and see if you still feel that way?” She could see the slender lines of his pupils shifting with interest, mouth tipped into a wry smile.

One hand made its way up her shoulder to tip her head back from the neck, and Sara couldn't help her eyes slipping closed when she felt his breath spill against her skin. Her mouth had parted at some point, and she really wasn’t sure what time was anymore when his face dipped in close enough that she could feel his heat, and the prickling hum of his energy as he acquiesced to her not-so-subtle request.

He was wet, and still very warm from the shower—or maybe he had gotten _warmer_ —and she found herself chasing the water still on his lips with her tongue. He responded in kind, tenderly finding his own way inside her mouth with an escaping breath. At some point her lower lip was caught gently between his teeth, and a quiet moan escaped her outside of her own control when their mouths melded again. Jaal _had_ to be warmer now, the faint buzz she had sensed pressed against his body felt more intense now, almost electrifying.

Between his fingers slipping through her hair, caressing her scalp, and his tongue moving sensuously against her own with the ever-present awareness of his nakedness against her, Sara lost all sense of herself. Much as she always seemed to when he kissed her—maybe _moreso_ now, with the utter intensity and passion behind Jaal’s movements as he shifted her tight against him—Sara found herself drowning, becoming so overwhelmed with heat and the sudden need to somehow lose herself against him. She would have been more than happy to continue, wanting to explore every inch of him with her mouth, until her senses finally came back to her when Jaal made a soft noise of frustrated protest in his mouth before pulling away.

“I think…” He said, a little breathless and shy as he pressed a kiss against the tip of her nose. “My initial observation is still correct.” His lips were soft against her forehead when he planted another kiss there, before gently pulling her face away with both his hands to look at her.

Sara thought she must have looked a fright, her face red and flushed as she practically panted against him. Words simply weren’t coming to her, like she’d forgotten how to form coherent sentences with her mouth, like he’d rendered it _useless_ with his very focused tongue.

“It appears I have left you speechless…” Jaal smirked, his eyes nearly black and bottomless from the telltale sign of his arousal. It didn’t appear to be lost on him that he’d basically turned her to mush, making out with her in the bathroom with nothing but a towel separating her from _something_ that Sara was suddenly very aware of.

“You did that on purpose,” Sara frowned, pouting, _finally_ able to put a thought to words as her pulse approached normal again. “And I must smell terrible too,” she wrinkled her nose, realizing that her lack of showering yet was probably very obvious.

“I had not noticed.” Through Jaal’s tone it was likely that he actually had not, and would have probably made out with her if she was covered in Einroch gore, but Sara didn’t particularly care.

“Liar!” She pulled away a bit, teasingly, and also wanting to give him the needed space to compose himself. “Well _I_ can smell myself, and I hate it, so I really need a shower.” Gently easing away was harder than it should have been, though he readily let her go. “I _really_ just came in here for shampoo.”

“I believe you.”

“Sure you do,” Sara said, coyly. She didn’t know if he was being sassy or not, but he was making it very difficult to leave the room. She managed to pry her eyes off him long enough to turn around and finally grab the shampoo she’d come for. “I should leave you to finish… drying off.” She motioned vaguely at him with a smile. “You should probably lock the door.”

“Yes. I think that might be wise.” He cleared his throat, his eyes drifting sideways with a knowing smile.

Sara winked as she backed out of the room, the door slipping closed after her as she leaned against the wall and sighed heavily. _Real smooth, Sara_. It was a good thing she intended on taking a cold shower anyway, because she probably _needed_ it now.

Sam’s voice interrupted her thoughts. _“Sara, I am noticing a sharp increase in Jaal’s heart-ra—”_

_“SAM! Please! We talked about this. Just—I don’t need to know about anyone’s heart-rate right now.”_

_“If you insist, Sara. Does this include your brother?”_

_“What? What about Scott?”_ Sara froze, wondering what the hell Scott had to do with the fact that she'd just made out with Jaal in the showers with nothing but a thin towel separating her from his naked body. 

_“He has woken up.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally the scene in the showers had been a bit more... straightforward, but it occurred to me that I didn't want either Jaal or Sara to come off too creepy. Maybe I was a bit heavy handed again, but I thought there was still some important discussion to be had there. I hope I balanced it out with some more good spice. There should be less of the "working things out" sort of discussions going forward, as I think at this point they've pretty solidly laid down their expectations for each other. So, now we can focus on the "meat" of things. ;)
> 
> Scott is awake, and now Sara must face the repercussions of her lies. What will Scott think of all this? Of Jaal? We'll have to ask him, I guess...


	12. Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A newly tested Pathfinder comes to terms with her actions, and finds solace in a surprising place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone. Once again a big thank you to everyone who has commented and read this, and continues to read it!

The Cardinal was dead.

Sara had shot her. Point-blank. From behind. She didn’t know she was capable of that.

The kett—female Sara realized, the first that she’d seen—had been surprisingly calm, _confident_ even in the face of being beaten just moments before Sara had taken her life. This was just after she and Cora, and their newly acquired angaran crew member Jaal, had endured a torrent of gunfire. Mountains of dead kett, several bruises and close-calls later, they’d finally knocked the Cardinal out of her gravitational bubble and taken her down.

Immediately, Sara had gone to the Moshae where she collapsed, Jaal barely a step behind her as they both helped the angaran woman to her feet. Sara grunted with the effort—the angara all seemed to be quite a bit bigger than her, but as soon as Jaal’s added strength joined her’s on the Moshae’s other side, the weight was lifted off her and she could exhale with relief. Since she wasn't particularly needed at that point and was more like an intrusion between the two angara, Sara shifted her efforts to helping the Moshae straighten as she leaned against Jaal’s side.

“No one has ever returned from behind kett walls…” the Moshae had said, her voice a soft warble of uncertainty, like she didn’t quite believe what was happening around her and that she was _safe_.

“Well, I don’t know the rules here yet,” Sara said, but unsurprisingly neither the Moshae or Jaal reacted at her attempts to lighten the mood, though Sara reasoned it was probably not the time or place. Without missing a beat, “This place is on alert now. We have to get out of here. _Now_.” She only glanced at Jaal a moment enough to catch his concerned stare, motioning with her head to the exterior that would lead to the roof before the Moshae’s pleading voice stopped them.

“…I’m not the only one here…”

“We saw them…” Sara said markedly softer, knowing the Moshae was referring to the other angara in the facility. The other _captives_ , who were unwilling victims of the kett’s cruel intentions. The memory of what they witnessed made Sara begin to feel sick all over again, but she swallowed down the bile, choosing to focus on encouraging her to move. “We’ll come back for them…”

Jaal did not add anything to this, instead fully absorbed in the Moshae as he adjusted to allow the angara to focus more of her weight on him. Sara noticed a dizzying amount of text scrolling up his optic visor, and reasoned he was probably scanning her. “Her vitals are bad, and her immune system has been decimated—”

“No! You will not take it!” The Cardinal, who had been largely forgotten in their haste to recover the Moshae, had finally regained her senses and was bearing down on them fast. “It is meant for the Archon himself!” They had no time to lift their weapons before the unfurling of violent crimson energy began to uncoil in the Cardinal’s palm, and she would decimate them before they fired a single shot—

—Until Cora had the barrel of her pistol pressed flush against the cracked, uneven dome of the kett’s skull. The Cardinal froze, the energy dissipating into nothingness as her eyes went wide with the realization that she hadn’t seen the other human in the room.

“Wrong. _She’s_ coming with us,” Sara barked, pulling the Moshae, and Jaal with her, forward to make a break for the exit. The Moshae dug her heels in, effectively dragging them to a stop, and Sara’s center of balance was thrown off-kilter as the much heavier angara, Jaal even heavier still, came to an abrupt stop behind her. “We can’t—”

“I want to know why the Archon has done this…” Stubborn, and defiant, Moshae Sjefa looked directly at the Cardinal with every expectation that she would have all her questions answered. Reluctantly Sara paused, and Jaal did too. Cora had the Cardinal pinned down, and the kett knew this.

“These Chosen join us to become great beyond your ability to understand!” Of course it was nonsensical, cryptic _bullshit_ , and Sara felt her levels of tolerance quickly dissipate.

“You turn the angara into monsters that kill and kidnap their own people. I understand it just fine.”

“I was once wretched too, like them, and the exalted genetic poetry of our great Archon entwines with mine!” _More_ garbage, but it was clear from the regained strength in the Cardinal’s voice that she actually _believed_ what she was trying to sell. The earnest devotion in her voice was actually quite… sad, and _pathetic_ because it reeked of indoctrination.

“The only thing wretched here, is you.” Sara knew that the Cardinal was past the point of redemption. What they had done, and continued to do, was beyond the scope that forgiveness would allow.

“I stand on the shoulders of his greatness. As they do, and as you will, one day.” The implied threat in the Cardinal’s next words prompted Sara to finally step away from the Moshae and Jaal. Her anger flared, and she could feel her temperature skyrocketing with adrenaline and rage as she stalked towards her adversary. The Cardinal stepped back, flinching, in a very satisfying way.

“Except I am going to fuck...your shit...up.” Sara stood toe-to-toe with the Cardinal now, staring straight into her yellow, hollow eyes that were now skirting around with pronounced fear. _Good._ “How’s that for greatness?”

“Pathfinder, I am tracking multiple inbound Kett cruisers.” SAM intoned abruptly, cutting into Sara’s stand-off with the urgent warning. She only had a moment to register alarm before the Cardinal sneered, another definitive, confident threat.

“You will all be exalted.”

“I’ve heard enough.” Sara scoffed, taking a step backwards in disgust. “SAM? Is there an off-switch to this shitshow?”

“I’ve accessed the EM field. I can overload at your command.”

“We must get all our people out first!” Jaal’s frantic interjection made Sara jump, and she could _feel_ him leap into the space behind her, looming. Looking over—and up—her shoulder at him, Sara opened her mouth to reply but Cora cut her off.

“There’s no time to open hundreds of pods, let alone help the angara inside.” Sara had the displeasure of still making eye-contact with Jaal when Cora spoke, so she saw the ghost of anger and disgust—and fear—pass over his face before he had time to voice it. He held Sara’s stare, and she read it as a challenge more than a plea, like Sara’s decision here could very likely have lasting consequences. Whether she was about to burn bridges, or build them was up to her to decide, but she damn sure was not going to break eye contact first. 

Sara didn’t bother looking at Cora, because she already knew that her second-in-command’s face would be something of a blank mask. She almost regretted giving Cora permission to come along to give her the opportunity to make this harder than it already was. Cora had insisted, likely convinced that Jaal would take the first opportunity to slit the Pathfinder’s throat and leave her there to bleed out and rot. While Sara still wasn’t quite yet convinced that wasn’t an option on the angara’s mind—she wasn’t stupid, they all _knew_ Evfra had planted his lieutenant on their ship to kill them if they got out of line—she was more irritated by Cora’s real motivation. Sara, the Pathfinder, was a resource. Practicality, and probably, the safety of the Pathfinder came first.

“Wait! Leave my sacred temple intact… I will let them go. Take them—just leave this holy place standing!” The Cardinal’s tone had shifted dramatically: panic, born from misplaced devotion and a disgusting reverence for their sick religion, if it could even be called that. 

“No! Even if I die here this place must be destroyed!” Sara saw the Moshae limp forward from behind Jaal’s side. He had broken eye-contact first, whirling around at the Moshae’s broken protest to catch her.

“We can come back to destroy it. We must free those that are here now!” Jaal’s clear objection to this notion was apparent in his voice, a pained wavering of the resonance underneath the baritone of his words. Sara felt so much conflict, _feeling_ for him and desperately wanting to empathize because she truly did. The problem was he just hadn’t been receptive to it so far, and with the spectre of uncertainty lingering over every interaction between them she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel.

“The kett will fill this place again.” The blunt, probably accurate statement did not deter Jaal.

“With respect Moshae, our brothers and sisters are here. Our fighters. Our scientists. Our strength!”

This was a personal debate between them, and Sara realized then that her empathy wasn’t important anyway. But what she _could_ do, was take control of the situation and just make a damn choice because they were running out of time. For now, they were still the ones in power and she would use that to their advantage.

“Release the angara below.” Sara demanded, her voice loud enough to cut past the back-and-forth between the two angara behind her because they both fell silent. A lightness seemed to fall over the Cardinal then, one of relief, as she reached for a console behind her.

Inputting a series of quick commands, the Cardinal spoke through the facility’s communication channels. “Enact emergency shutdown. Release the Chosen.” There was no guarantee that any of the kett below would heed the command honorably, but they couldn’t afford not to take that risk now.

“Jaal, have the Resistance free as many as they can before the kett arrive.” The Cardinal had barely finished her command and returned to a stooped position of defeat before Sara spoke over her shoulder. They couldn’t waste any more time. They had minutes maybe.

“I will…” The pause was almost palpable, but brief. “And—thank you.” Sara was glad that Jaal could not see her expression break at his stuttered—and surprising—gratitude. She was surprised, but she’d have to ruminate on that later. Jaal was already hastily barking out commands to the Resistance frequencies over his comlink by the time Sara realized the Cardinal was slinking away.

“I thank you too. I see that you begin to understand the gift that the kett bring to all of this galaxy” The Cardinal said, strained voice warbling with what could only be fear underneath the vibrating resonance of its alien vocal chords.

 _Something_ made Sara finally snap. It could have been the continued reference to the angara as _it_ and _things_ that finally did her in. Or the laughably absurd, and arrogant assumption that the kett were still doing the angara some sort of fucking favor by destroying them.

And Sara was _so damn mad_ after everything she’d seen, she knew that the kett would just fill the place with tortured angara again anyway. Probably Initiative lives soon too. They’d found the remains of their “studies” on Eos, and weren’t beyond picking apart those the Pathfinder title was meant to protect. All of these lives meant nothing to them.

“Not likely.” Sara barely heard her own voice, barely registered that she’d lifted the gun to the back of the kett’s head and pulled the trigger as she limped away. The pistol exploded in her grip, the kick-back throwing her arm backwards as her ears rung from the sudden break in the silence of the chamber. The Cardinal’s body crumpled forward in a spray of blood, slamming lifelessly to the ground as fluids pooled below its shattered face. After, Sara immediately felt a chill run through her as her limbs went cold.

“It deserved far worse,” the Moshae intoned dully.

“It probably did. But we’re out of time, and I’m not in the business of making something suffer.” Sara’s response was blunt, yet probably more biting than it had any right to be. The Moshae almost seemed unimpressed with how she had just murdered a retreating combatant like it _wasn’t good enough_ , and Sara had a moment of dissonance where she wanted to snap back. She bit her tongue, having at least the frame of mind to recognize the rather delicate situation they were in.

“Even if it deserves it,” the Moshae repeated, pointedly.

Sara chose not to respond, knowing that whatever she said might have seemed callous in that moment. She was running on adrenaline, shock, and pain, and couldn’t begin to comprehend what the angara elder had gone through during her captivity. Had their positions been flipped she probably would have reacted the same.

Jaal had returned to the Moshae’s side, and Sara only caught his slightly startled gaze for a moment, his shockingly blue eyes wide but without a trace of accusation. He probably was just as surprised as Sara was that she had just killed that kett in cold blood, and the immediate, deafening silence somehow made it all worse.

But Sara was _so very_ angry, even still, like the dead Cardinal wasn’t enough to make up for all the injustice in the universe. The kett _were_ the angara, twisted and deformed against their will, only to become mindless drones to fill out the ranks for their masters. And the only thing they could do was kill them, because they were past the point of saving and would not hesitate to kill first.

She remembered the anguish in Jaal’s eyes as they’d first witnessed it happen, hidden behind closed doors where the gathered kett hierarchy below could not see them. He’d actually cried, _openly_ , and she remembered exchanging a concerned, slightly uncomfortable look with Cora because they admittedly didn’t know what to do with that.

She also remembered the raw power and rage as Jaal had attempted to beat his way out of their enclosed room to stop the sick ceremony as it happened. How could one forget that, the way he’d just exploded, throwing himself against the barriers over and over again, but the walls and thick, plated windows withstood the assault. Sara had tried to comfort him, unsure if her alien empathy was really all that welcome. She’d felt him tense a bit when she placed a hand on his shoulder, and that was as far as she was willing to go. He hadn’t looked at her for a while after that.

His expression now was surprisingly hard to read, considering the angara didn’t exert a lot of effort to hide what they were thinking or feeling. Sara had learned that pretty quickly after several “you are very small” and “what is that substance on your head?” After about five or so “how do you walk with those straight legs?” it had gone from infuriating, to mildly annoying, to just boring to answer.

Jaal had asked none of those things. So far he’d said very little to her, unreceptive to her questions and attempts to reach out and get acquainted, to the point that she’d started to wonder if she’d made a mistake letting him on the ship. The crew didn’t trust him. Liam seemed to be the only other person on the Tempest making an effort to extend an olive branch of peace, and while Jaal wasn’t outwardly hostile, his coldness wasn’t exactly meshing with the culture of the ship.

Perhaps he was trying to read her now, to try and figure out if this human had really just done what she did despite whatever preconceptions he had. Sara didn’t even know what those were, but she’d gotten the impression that he didn’t like her, or at the very least, was unimpressed; like he didn’t think she was capable. She was non-threatening, and inconsequential. Sara had gotten that a lot, but somehow it felt worse coming from him, like she needed to make a good impression for some fucked up reason.

The look on his face now, was still vague enough to be incomprehensible. His eyes lingered on her’s longer than they ever had before, mouth a straight line of neutrality, but there was the faintest crinkle on his smoothly sloped brow which was the only indication of _something_. Then after a blink it was gone.

“Pathfinder, we need to go.” Cora, cool and abrupt, reminded Sara that now was not the time to ruminate on relationship dynamics. They needed to call in the Resistance evac shuttle that was waiting for them. _Right_. With a quick nod to her second-in-command, no further acknowledgment was needed as they stepped forward to follow the Pathfinder to the exit. Jaal did not need to be told what had to happen next, as he was already dictating quick commands to their Resistance cohorts that were waiting for their signal.

“We have the Moshae. Heading to the roof for extraction.” There was something of a finality to his voice, and underlying relief and comfort in the fact that they were _done_. They had gotten what they came for, and maybe, managed to save more lives in the process. Sara only had a moment to wonder if siding with him in her decision was going to melt any of the ice of his temperament, before the high-pitched zing of a charged energy bullet cutting through the space dangerously close to her ear made her attention suddenly, _brutally_ shift focus.

“Down!” The same moment Sara screamed, their group split as the sudden roar of a kett shuttle overhead signaled the arrival of the reinforcements SAM had warned them about. Two, then three kett-filled vessels hovered over the roof platform, filling the area with their destructive cargo as gunfire rained down upon them. The heavy, metal crates Sara and Cora were ducked behind suddenly seemed absurdly frail as the persistent _thwack-thwack-thwack_ of gunfire against them had the two women nailed in place. Sara could see Jaal, cradling the Moshae in a protective grip, in a similar position at the opposing edge of the platform. He was shouting frantically into his comlink on his forearm, but Sara couldn’t hear him over the assault.

“We’re backed into a corner!” Cora had only begun to start before Sara barked.

“I noticed!” Sara realized that all she heard now was gunfire, and the garbled shouts of the kett as they advanced on their position. The shuttles had retreated, but seeing as they hadn’t had the decency to take the kett back with them they were no better off. They had maybe minutes before the advancing edge of the kett reached them and then they would be toast. They needed an opening.

“I can—” Sara knew immediately what Cora was doing before she even said it, seeing the wavering slivers of biotic energy ripple around a large, volatile barrel standing between them and Jaal with the Moshae. 

When Sara threw a look back at Cora behind her, she could see the sheer strength of the woman’s concentration on her face as she closed her partially curled hand into a fist, gritting her teeth as she threw her arm sideways. “Don’t miss!”

The barrell went rocketing sideways in the direction of the kett, and for several agonizing seconds of _nothing_ Sara feared Cora had just catapulted it uselessly off the edge of the roof—

—Until the sudden _whoomf_ of kinetic energy hit her senses before she heard and felt the heat of the explosion that immediately followed, pushing their cover against them forward several inches. Dust and debris pelted them, falling down the cracks between her armor and down the back of her neck.

There was only a split second break in the gunfire, where the kett where confused and disorganized enough to stop firing.

Whirling around, Sara broke cover first and immediately began firing, at anything that resembled a kett as she jumped out from behind the crates, stepping over freshly charred bodies that had been getting a little bit too close to their position. Cora was behind her, and Sara felt the prickling sensation of energy that told her she was building a biotic field.

A Resistance shuttle shot by overhead; their ride, but the platform was still too hot so it hovered at the opposite edge. Waves of kett remained between them and their ticket to safety, scattering as soon as the shuttle doors opened and two angaran Resistance members added their gunfire to the fray. Sara only half registered them ducking behind the doorframe of the shuttle for cover, praying that neither of them would get shot because they’d taken too long chatting up the Cardinal.

Another kett fell backwards in a spray of blood under Sara’s bullets. Now it felt infinitely less satisfying knowing they had once been angara, the pang of guilt dropping her stomach as fast as she ducked behind the next spot of cover several paces forward. Hesitation now would get them killed, because they wouldn’t respond to mercy; they’d tried that already. There was nothing of the angara left, that much was clear, and as Sara trained her weapon on her next target, advancing forward once more, she had to banish every ounce of reservation.

Sara didn’t need to look behind her to know that Jaal and the Moshae followed. She could hear the boom of his rifle and follow each precise shot as it took kett down one after the other with clean shots. Somehow, they made progress to the shuttle, each forward push increasing the level of urgency Sara felt because she knew that more kett would arrive soon.

It was a miracle they made it as far as they did without their shields breaking. Sara was convinced a bullet was about to snuff her out, every second it took to make it close enough that it felt like an end was in sight. There was one more cluster of kett between them and their escape, and the angara in the shuttle had disappeared. Sara immediately feared they’d been killed, but she had no time to mourn. Several bullets with her name on them zipped passed her shields, close enough that she could see the sparks as they connected against her barriers.

“Jaal, get her to the shuttle!” Sara fell against the cover of metal crates again, the emboldened, and desperate remnants of kett getting out several more shots that slapped against the metal just inches away from her face. She could feel their charged heat against her sweating brow as the concussive _thwack_ of bullet-on-metal bounced around inside her skull. Cora was ducked down several paces away with Jaal and the Moshae, and they were closer to the shuttle. “Cora, you too. Get them there alive!”

“Pathfinder—”

“That’s an _order!_ ” If Cora resented this, it never presented on her face long enough for Sara to see it, but that was the least of her worries. They hadn’t come this far to have the Moshae taken down by a bullet just at the precipice of escape, and she was going to get all the cover she needed.

Cora may have hated her for having the role of Pathfinder ripped out of her grasp, but Sara wasn’t about to let her get killed. This was her burden to bear.

The gunfire halted just long enough for Jaal to bolt forward, the Moshae tucked close to him behind his body for protection. Cora moved with them, firing in the direction where the kett were clustered as they made their way to the shuttle. Sara was several paces behind them, giving them a head start as she tried to contribute a distraction long enough for them to escape. The kett no longer bothered to hide behind their own cover, firing at her ruthlessly as they began to close the distance between them, and her. Sara was out of cover longer than she should have, knowing it was risky but impulsively she kept firing.

_“Pathfinder, your shields—”_

SAM’s interjected warning was immediately cut off as another explosion ripped apart the platform. A stray bullet hit a second explosive canister somewhere between Sara and the kett, and she was thrown bodily backwards for what seemed like an eternity of being airborne before she hit the ground. Sara couldn’t even hear the exhausted scream of pain that was ripped from her throat over the ringing in her ears. 

Stunned and disoriented from the blast and her shields shattering when she slammed into the metal plating of the roof, Sara barely managed to flip onto her stomach, realizing she was facing away from the shuttle towards the edge of the platform. She had been thrown even further from the shuttle by the blast, her pistol even farther and out of reach by several feet. It was a miracle it hadn’t vaulted off the edge onto Voeld’s surface below, even more shocking that _she_ hadn’t gone off the edge, as she’d been certain she was plummeting to her death before the roof broke her fall.

Slowly, painfully, Sara crawled forward, needing her pistol and ignoring the too-heavy assault rifle on her back. _Why the fuck did I even bring this_ , she thought stupidly, still disoriented. She was finding it hard to bend her arm backwards to retrieve it anyway. The ringing in her ears was now a dull whine as her only consistent thought was the certainty that any second now she’d feel the kett grabbing at her. It was a nagging, itching worry at the back of her neck like a sixth sense.

“PATHFINDER!” Cora’s sudden, panicked scream was a violent blow against her awareness, as her ears suddenly corrected themselves just in time to hear—and feel—something heavy hit the ground above her. The kett were on her, and her hand made one last attempt to reach her pistol but it danced out of her reach once her whole body heaved off the ground like she weighed no more than a rag doll. 

Something pulled at the armor at the back of her neck, yanking her to her feet in one swift, powerful motion before she was dragged. Sara only had a second to register that the magnetic lock of the assault rifle at her back had released, the weight of the weapon suddenly off her body as it was taken from her—She was about to get killed with her own gun.

Sara flailed then, trying to regain her balance and get the grip off her back and fight until it became clear that her rifle was firing in the other direction, and she was getting pulled towards the shuttle. 

A flutter of blue fabric fell over her shoulder once Sara swung her body around to meet the direction she was being carried, stumbling as she came to terms with the fact that it was _Jaal_ who was pulling her. He was firing at the kett, hauling her behind the shielding bulk of his body, and Sara couldn’t help but notice that he was one-handing her rifle like it weighed nothing at all...

Sara felt like she had only just processed that it was Jaal pulling her off the platform, when she was practically thrown into the darkened cover of the shuttle. Her startled yelp of pain and surprise was drowned out again by Cora’s companion yell as the woman immediately had her hands on her. She was pulling Sara further into the recesses of the shuttle, onto the bench where Sara fell back heavily in limp exhaustion. 

The shuttle swayed as Jaal leapt on-board, still firing, his free hand slapping the release that would close the door. Sara’s stomach lurched as the shuttle pitched sideways, the door not even completely shut before it veered away from facility. The unremarkable _pit-pat_ of bullets hit its armored hull, the kett below clearly not ready to let them get away.

Just like that, it was over.

It was such an unusual, unsettling sense of _nothing_ that it almost didn’t feel real. It shouldn’t have felt so… anticlimactic.

Taking stock, Sara saw that the Moshae was safe, limp against the opposite end of the shuttle as she reclined on the bench. She was currently fending Jaal off as he took a seat next to her, his concerned prodding being met with only exhausted resistance. The two Resistance angara that had been providing additional cover fire before disappearing were thankfully alive. One had been wounded enough to fall back and the other needed to stabilize him, and while one was significantly worse for wear they both appeared okay. Sara managed to nod in gratitude at them, when the one currently providing aid caught her in his icy blue glance. Cora was on her other side, absorbed in scanning her with her Omni-tool, talking to Lexi over the com just long enough for it to get annoying to the point that Sara had to push her away.

Cora relented, resigned to sit silently next to Sara, every so often throwing concerned glances in in her direction that she ignored. Sara knew she wasn’t doing her relationship with Cora any favors in that moment, but all she could think about was getting back to the Tempest so that she could lock herself in her quarters. A veil of disbelief hovered over her, like they weren’t quite safe yet, and any second now something was going to blow them out of the sky.

The shuttle rocked, hitting turbulence in Voeld’s perpetual blizzard, but they had made it. 

Instead of feeling relaxed, Sara felt an uncertain sense of discontent creep over her. Adrenaline still pumped through her veins. She felt hot, and filthy, but what annoyed her more was the way Jaal was looking at her from across the shuttle.

There seemed to be a faint layer of worry over his features as he sat silently with the Moshae, his eyes catching hers like magnets. The Moshae appeared to be dozing, her eyes closed and completely unfazed by the shuttle’s movements. Sara had no doubts that Moshae Sjefa disapproved of the decision she had made about letting the facility stand. That wasn’t what bothered her, however. Apparently satisfied that the Moshae was alright Jaal had turned his attention towards _her_.

The crinkle on his brow was there again, but now his mouth was turned down into a frown. Sara couldn’t begin to know what he was thinking, but she wished he would look away, at first feeling more _angry_ that he had put himself in harms way like that to pull her sorry ass out of the firefight. She wasn't able to hold onto that for long, too exhausted to be angry, and knowing that it didn't matter anyway because ultimately they were both alive. A perplexingly disconcerting level of gratitude towards him had settled heavy, and deep within her chest: a feeling of _closeness_ that was confusing, but born from a shared experience as he pulled her off that platform. It was a closeness that would probably amount to nothing if Jaal did not ever warm up to the Tempest crew. He probably wasn’t even going to stick around, assuming they’d done enough to prove the Tempest didn’t need a heavily armed and capable envoy.

Sara knew that the appropriate thing to do would be to thank him, but the words were stuck in her throat. Maybe that was why he was frowning at her, because he was waiting for it, but a more coherent part of her mind told her that wasn’t what he was trying to communicate. Sara tried to make her face even, to soften her features in order to not be staring at him with such severity, in hopes that it translated as something like gratitude.

Right now she was shell-shocked, tired, and angry, and she needed some time to process that.

Eventually the Moshae stirred, breaking Jaal’s focus on her as he turned to the angara elder next to him. They began to speak softly to one another, the attention away from her, so Sara tried to focus elsewhere. 

She just hoped that Jaal hadn’t seen that she was trembling.

***

Once Sara was back in the familiar surroundings of the Tempest, she made a beeline for her quarters so that she could be alone. Avoiding the rest of the crew, including Lexi, had been an exercise mastered with an extensive amount of practice. She wasn’t entirely in the mood to entertain questions and congratulations for slaughtering kett, especially with the disconcerting knowledge now that they were nothing but enslaved, mutated angara. That wasn’t really something to celebrate. 

Once she managed to slip into the Pathfinder quarters unseen, she’d barely begun peeling off her armor before telling SAM to lock the door, practically running to the shower as if it would wash everything she’d just had to experience away from her mind.

It didn’t, and after the weight of everything came crashing down around her, Sara finally let herself fall apart. Her narrow escape, Jaal’s rescue followed close behind, and she couldn’t stop replaying the moments of the Cardinal’s death in her mind like it was on a loop.

Sara didn’t even bother throwing herself on her bed, sinking down to her knees on the ground next to it where she could crumple forward. She wrapped her arms around herself as if it would help, her breath hitching as a panicked sense of despair settled over her. At some point the tears came, then shame at her weakness and inability to handle the horror like Alec Ryder could have, but _damnit, it wasn’t supposed to be this way!_

Time was a muddied blur, the amount of minutes Sara sat there curled up against herself sobbing quietly into her knees stretching out endlessly, while she relived the trigger pull that heralded the Cardinal’s final moments time and again. So, she didn’t know how long it was before SAM finally broke this pattern and spoke.

_“Pathfinder, Jaal would like to speak with you.”_

Sara cursed, her head dropping back to stare at the ceiling with an exasperated huff. Surely he should be with Moshae Sjefa, safe and recovering with Lexi in the medbay. She had assumed he would remain there with her until they arrived back on Aya in several days.

_“I don’t want to go talk to anyone right now.”_

_“He is currently outside the door.”_ Of course, SAM couldn’t begin to comprehend how much this deadpan statement could possibly aggravate her, so he certainly didn’t deserve the cornucopia of internalized curses in her head that followed. Sara should have assumed this to be the case, seeing as SAM had chosen to alert her privately through the implant in her head rather than his platform on her desk.

Scrambling to a stand, Sara finally relented. _“Shit… stall him for a minute… Tell him I’m naked or something.”_ Grimacing, Sara ran to bathroom to splash water on her face and wipe her eyes. She didn’t want anyone to see her cry. The _Pathfinder_ didn’t cry, or break under pressure, and she sure as hell didn’t want to show any sign of weakness in front of him.

_“He wants me to inform you that nudity is nothing to be ashamed of—”_

_“Oh, fuck OFF—”_

Sara was in no mood for a debate on angara customs and have her modesty ridiculed, but relented to prevent SAM from forcing Jaal away despite how tempting it may have been. She came out of the bathroom moments later feeling a bit more put together, throwing on a hoodie over her shirt for good measure, so as not to seem like the mess she felt. She hadn’t worn it since first arriving on Aya weeks before, having only carelessly thrown it over the back of one of the chairs after returning to her room that night. It still smelled heavily of tropical flowers and spices.

“Okay let him in.” Sara said after a moment, inanely deciding to pick up a datapad that had been sitting on an end table as if to look busy. She chose to stand at the couch on the end of her room, facing the viewports, as if it would present some sort of impressive visual. Seconds later she heard the doors slide open on their magnetic tracks, before hearing Jaal’s characteristic stalking steps enter the room.

It was silent for a few moments then, after the doors shut behind him. It occured to Sara briefly that her choice of location had her back to him, open for attack, but frankly if Jaal was there to kill her she kind of welcomed it. At least Cora would get her Pathfinder position and she’d be free of this…

“What can I do for you Jaal?” Sara finally called over her shoulder, unable to bear the silence any longer. Her voice sounded unusually heavy in her throat, her nose stuffed up from crying, so she prayed that Jaal had no idea what that meant.

Jaal seemed to hesitate for a moment— _Damnit_ , maybe he noticed. “I have spoken to Evfra,” he finally said, though something was different in his tone. “He is encouraged by our successful rescue of the Moshae, and would like to speak to you further.” Sara couldn’t quite place it, but there was something lighter in his voice, like maybe, his guard had come down just a little bit. “It appears that you have earned his trust.”

“That’s good.” Sara said, thinking suddenly, that maybe it was time to thank him for saving her life. 

“Thank you.” Jaal beat her to it. The sudden, earnest heart in his voice nearly making Sara turn around to face him, so that she could confirm it on his face and see _something_ other than stoic neutrality in his eyes. “For listening to me. For saving my people.”

“It was the right thing to do.” Sara finally put the datapad down, not having the strength to keep up the charade any longer. Her lip quivered, and she cursed at herself inwardly. “Thank you… for getting me off that roof.”

“It was… the right thing to do,” Jaal said, parroting her previous response to his gratitude, but that paled in comparison to what he said next. _“Ryder.”_

Sara felt stunned, like a kett bullet had pierced her heart stopping her in her tracks and she suddenly didn’t know what to say. He had never used anything resembling her actual name before, and the way he said it was so damn heartfelt, that it was suddenly impossible to think of this man as threatening.

It was such a stupidly simple sentiment, but for some reason it hit Sara profoundly. Only Lexi used her first name. Liam did too, but that was only a recent adjustment after she’d told him sarcastically that he could use her actual name like a normal person. Everyone called her Ryder, and it wasn’t impersonal, it just lacked any real warmth. 

Her name—even though it was still just _Ryder_ —within Jaal’s voice was different, at least in that moment, because the way he accentuated the ascending part of her surname almost felt like a plea. It was like he was begging her to acknowledge him, the accented roll of the “r” a rumbling whine of something... needy.

“Is… is that all?” It was the only thing Sara could come up with, wanting to remove him from the room as quickly as possible so that he wouldn’t see her start to cry. Her voice croaked. It was probably obvious in her voice that he’d affected her in such a way, and she hated it.

Covering her mouth did no good. It probably just made it more obvious from behind that she was trying to hide something, and when the tears started to fall hot and heavy she suddenly saw the Cardinal’s face again. Any hope then of stopping the torrent was gone. 

It was silent enough that Sara believed Jaal had left, maybe, uncomfortable in these new circumstances but she probably should have known better. With her guard shattered it would have been embarrassingly easy to strike; she’d seen him in combat, uncloaking from behind an enemy like a phantom taking form, only to plunge his dagger into their back. Yet, she was still startled when his arms were suddenly around her, and she was pulled against his wide, solid front.

Sara would have liked to say she didn’t yelp, shocked to suddenly find herself in a bear hug with immediately questionable intentions. Especially from someone who had so far held her at such a distance it would have made her father envious and want to take notes—yet, here she was, with her immediate impulse being to assume the worst, that he was going to constrict her whole body and snap her in two. That would have been a terribly inefficient way to kill her, but her brain wasn’t being entirely rational.

Only when she felt the sense of Jaal’s face hovering somewhere near her ear, his breath warm and surprisingly soft against her cheek, did she realize what he was doing. He was actually hugging her, if one could call being completely swallowed up in two arms each the size of her thighs a hug.

“W-what are you doing?” Sara immediately spluttered ungracefully, squirming out of his grip in a bid for freedom. “Why are you doing that?!” Her voice cracked, her hands clinging to Jaal’s forearms in an effort to pry him off her, and he readily let her go.

“You are… upset,” Jaal said, his tone delicate, and it was hard to tell if it was remorse or offense. “Angara comfort one another during times of grief.”

Sara whirled around, thinking to say something scathing about not particularly caring what angara do but she immediately found herself not even inches away from Jaal’s face. He was still ducked over into her personal space, having only removed his arms, and Sara couldn’t help but wonder _why_ he was still standing so damn close.

“I’m not the one who needs comforting—”

“I am sorry if I offended you…” He said, easing away as he probably sensed her discomfort.

“No—that’s not what I meant.” Sara couldn’t help but groan, frustrated with the notion that she was better off talking to a wall because at least the wall wouldn’t talk back. She sat down, if only to put some space between them, but she didn’t particularly like the way he was now standing over her. “My people aren’t the ones being systematically slaughtered. _I’m_ not the one who should be comforted.”

“That, does not seem like a healthy way to view things.” Jaal was frowning now, looking genuinely distraught.

“Would you sit down? I can’t talk to you like this if you’re standing over me.”

With some hesitation, Jaal eventually complied, seeming to be unsure if Sara’s request was actually genuine or not. Dabbing at her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater, she avoided looking at him entirely. If she did, she would notice that he was sitting right next to her with the entire space of the couch free—yet, he chose to sit in the only spot that would have them nearly touching. Sara just didn’t have the strength anymore, as it seemed to be an angara thing she was just going to have to get used to.

“You don’t need to be worried about me.” Sara said finally.

“You are hurting.” Jaal’s simple observation would have been infuriating, but Sara was feeling too sick to care.

“Of course I’m hurting. After everything I’ve just seen about what they’re doing in there? And then I shot someone in the back… you just don’t _do_ that—” Sara said, feeling as if a floodgate had opened. “—Regardless of whether or not they deserve it, and believe me, the kett do.”

“That kett would have done the same to you.”

“I know, but that isn’t the point.”

“Because, you value life and the kett do not.”

Sara felt as if something had just lodged in her throat, unable to muster up anything that would be able to hold a candle to what Jaal had just said. The only thing she could manage was burying her face in her hands.

“I… didn’t sign up for this…” Sara managed, her voice muffled in her hands. She could feel the anguish beginning to build again: regret and resentment, and _so much sadness_ for her comfortable, relative normalcy that was now lost so far away. 

“What did you… _sign up for_?” Sara sensed that he hadn’t quite understood her turn of phrase, so she suspected that Jaal’s question was clearly just an excuse to keep her talking—to get her to open up, which made Sara immediately suspicious of his intent. He’d exerted so much time and effort prior to this avoiding any sort of in-depth personal conversation, yet was choosing right now to decide that he was suddenly interested.

Yet, his question made her think about how she wanted to answer. What the hell _was_ she even doing here?

She laughed sourly. “I didn’t come here to go to war, I can tell you that much. I came here to… I don't know. Escape.” The last word came out as a quiet murmur. Had she really jumped galaxies just to run away from the stigma attached to her father’s image? From the accusing glares and burned bridges and soured reputation? It sure did look that way, and in the face of everything it seemed incredibly self absorbed and _stupid_.

“You are not alone there. The universe is infinite and yet it’s still possible to feel, ah, how might you put it...trapped.” Jaal paused, and there may have been a beat of hesitation in his voice as if he was considering his next words very carefully. “Trapped by the accomplishments of those who came before you, good, or bad.” Sara sensed that there may have been something personal motivating what he’d just said, and under different circumstances she may have asked something more. He seemed… forlorn.

It dawned on Sara then that she’d completely, and selfishly forgotten something.

“How are _you_?” In her misery she’d thoughtlessly neglected to ask Jaal how he was coping, considering he’d just witnessed a member of his own species get turned into the enemy they had been fighting for decades. Though, Jaal did not seem to understand her question, blinking at her with uncertainty and something that may have been hesitation. “I mean, are you okay? It was pretty rough back there, and I can’t imagine what you’re thinking…” It was possible he thought she had been asking him to elaborate on what he’d just said, or maybe _how are you_ didn’t translate well.

“I am… alright,” Jaal finally said, but it was disconcerting the way he refused to break eye contact with her when he said it. “Thank you for asking.” Though his expression wasn’t severe, it was still restrained, as if he still wasn’t quite sure why she cared.

“It was rude of me not to ask you sooner. I’m sorry.” Sara said into her hands, now clasped on her lap in front of her, but she could still feel his eyes on her. She could see it just at the edges of her vision, managing to tear her eyes off him long enough to stare uselessly at something that wouldn’t stare back.

“There is no need.” Jaal said frankly. “I… suppose that I should not have been surprised.” he finally looked away then, staring forward at her desk on the opposite side of the room from where they were seated. “There were rumors. Resistance reports that suggested the nature of what the kett were doing. It was naive of me to prefer to think otherwise.”

Sara looked at him, frowning. “That doesn’t change how terrible it is to see it happen.” Jaal shifted, possibly in discomfort. She wondered—sensed now that he’d possibly needed that hug just as much as she did, and was now feeling a bit guilty for reacting so strongly. “If you need anything, please just ask.”

“That is kind of you.” When Jaal looked at her then, seemingly more relaxed and...comfortable, Sara actually felt like she wasn’t alone for the first time. His eyes were so impossibly blue and bright, that for a minute she could have swore she saw Earth. _Home_. 

For the longest time, Sara had been feeling completely isolated and trapped here, within the metal confines of the Tempest. Even in the vastness of space, without boundaries or limitations, she still felt smothered: Smothered by responsibility she didn’t ask for or want, and by the responsibility for the safety of hundreds of thousands of lives. Maybe more now, if she counted the angara, because she couldn’t ignore their plight even if she wanted to. She carried it all with her every moment of every day, convinced that she alone was holding such a burden.

The one person left in this universe who could maybe understand her was currently in a coma on the Nexus. Sitting here with Jaal, was the first time Sara felt like someone was speaking to her without the veil of pity draped over their eyes. 

Maybe, that was what compelled her to keep talking.

“When our mom died, there was nobody there to comfort us.” Sara paused, wondering if she should bother continuing, but she sensed that Jaal’s silence meant that he was waiting. “My dad—Alec—he… disappeared emotionally. My brother and I tried to help each other, but we were both hurting.” The sudden reminder that her mother’s body was 600 years away was oppressive. With Scott in a coma all the way on the Nexus, his mind locked away, he may as well have been 600 years away too. “So...I should explain myself. If the way I reacted was strange to you… it’s because I don’t know how.”

“Does your crew not comfort one another in times of need?” Jaal seemed genuinely perplexed by this.

“No,” Sara laughed bitterly. “Well, yes, we do, but usually we just sit and talk.”

“Isn’t that what we are doing now?”

“Yes, but it’s different. There’s usually more….distance.” She sighed. “This whole thing wasn’t entirely planned.” Sara gestured around. “I mean, nothing really turned out like it was supposed to. We were all thrown together because there weren’t a lot of options.” She stopped, her hands dropping back to her lap. “I’m not exactly the one who was supposed to be in this position, and they know that. I can see it when they look at me.” Sara frowned, looking back down at her lap hoping Jaal hadn’t seen the frustrating weakness pass over her eyes. 

The crew on the Tempest… _liked_ her, but Sara didn’t think they necessarily respected her, or particularly cared about her in any meaningful way. She was a tool at this point, a vessel for SAM and a means of manipulating the Remnant technology. With the exception of Lexi, her mental state wasn’t any real priority to anyone. They certainly didn’t see her as an authority figure in the shadow of her father’s record and what was supposed to be. 

Vetra always looked at her with remorse, like she knew what Sara hadn’t quite figured out yet, in that she was way beyond her capabilities and was doomed to fail. Cora straight up resented her, and Peebee just didn’t listen or even care to listen. She was just there for the free ride. Sara wasn’t even sure what Drack felt about her yet, but she doubted that a krogan with his experience would ever see her as a figure of authority. Gil was filled with so much snark that it was hard to tell if anything he said was genuine, so that left Suvi and Kallo. They were both kind enough, but one of them always seemed terrified that she would command the Tempest straight into a snarl of Scourge. Which one of them it was depended on the day of the week. 

Liam was probably the exception, going through the same ordeal as she did on Habitat-7, so they’d formed something as a surrogate sibling relationship. It was certainly beyond what would have been deemed acceptable on an Alliance ship, her father would have said, but this wasn’t an Alliance ship and she wasn’t her father. He was probably the only person she would consider a friend right now, and she needed that. 

So where that left Jaal, Sara didn’t even know. He’d watched the entire crew argue with her when he’d first got on board: when she’d tried to make a case for him and helping the angara, and it had been like pulling teeth trying to get them to even tolerate the change. It had been embarrassing, how poorly it reflected on her, when not even her angry _“I didn’t say you were dismissed”_ could keep them from walking away.

Maybe that was why she cared so damn much about whether or not this alien disliked her. He was the only one here not tainted by Alec Ryder and the means by which she’d been thrown into this position. Maybe she didn’t even need him to understand her. Perhaps what she needed was someone who she didn’t have to explain herself to.

Though Jaal’s next question made Sara certainly consider throwing him off the ship, at least on initial impulse. 

“Are you not mated with Liam?” The innocence in his tone, and genuine curiosity actually tricked Sara into not immediately understanding what he’d asked, until it dawned on her.

“What?! Wait— _NO!_ Fuck no.” Sara spluttered, feeling her face getting hot with a blush, and feeling annoyed with the possible message it sent. “He reminds me too much of my brother, and that’s weird. I’m just not interested in him like that.” Maybe, Sara wondered, that was why Liam had subconsciously filled Scott’s empty role in her mind, unbeknownst to him, and it occurred to her that she should probably feel guilty about that. It also made Jaal’s question infinitely worse.

“I see.” Jaal said, though the way he hesitated was just a little bit disconcerting. It made Sara completely forget all about Liam, because she was now more concerned with the fact that she could have sworn she saw a flicker of relief pass over Jaal’s face before he turned away. Why was he even looking for something like that? “I apologize. It seemed you were close to him.”

Sara should have probably been more annoyed at such an invasive question, but if she called out every angara for speaking outside the boundaries of appropriateness she would never shut up.

That had certainly sucked all the air out of the room, and it made Sara start to fidget. The last thing she needed was people thinking she was screwing around with Liam behind closed doors, so she considered asking Jaal what would make him assume such a thing but she almost didn’t want to know.

“Where is your brother?” Jaal finally asked, undeterred by his previously absurd question, though Sara found it equally absurd that she hadn’t even managed to address this new topic yet. She hadn’t clarified where Scott was, it had become so _normal_ for her, when it shouldn’t have been. Everyone else knew, because he was meant to be part of the original Pathfinder team, but it had never been mentioned around Jaal before.

“His cryopod was damaged when we arrived. So, he’s in a coma on the Hyperion while they let him wake up naturally.” Sara said, finally managing to look at Jaal again. He was frowning at her, though his expression was not unkind. His eyes shimmered in the artificial light, narrow pupils focused intently on her with so much benevolence it almost made her forget that she barely knew him. “ _If_ he wakes up. There’s no guarantee.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she managed to force her eyes off his, wondering why she was finding it so difficult to not lose her way in them.

When Sara had first met Jaal on Aya, he had vaulted down the steps towards her to demand she spill their intentions. His eyes had been so hotly penetrating that Sara had imagined a bullet to the back of the head from one of the surrounding Resistance soldiers might have been a blessing then. That was why it had been so shocking for the next thing to come come out of her mouth to be a stupid attempt at a joke. Even more shocking had been Jaal’s reaction: a smirk, and a retort. She would have half expected him to knock her flat on the ground, but instead he’d snarked right back. Vaguely hostile as it was—almost condescending like he _knew_ better than her what was in store if she crossed the line—it had almost been refreshing. The fire in his eyes had almost been… exciting.

But now, when she managed to find herself tumbling into his eyes again, feeling conflicted and confused about what it meant, what she saw there was miles away from the aggression she saw that day on Aya.

“I am sorry. Losing a sibling is...” Jaal shifted, seeming to dip closer. “...difficult.” It sounded like he knew from experience, but that wasn’t a question Sara was prepared to ask him. That was too personal, and inappropriate, at least for now when she was beside herself with the grief they seemed to share.

The grief that right now, it felt like this alien who had rebuked all her previous attempts at cordiality and had evaded her at every turn, was maybe the only one who had been willing to really sit and listen to her. Brief as it was, it didn’t begin to cover the parade of problems Sara had, but it was enough.

It was almost like something had changed, like something terrible had been left back at the disturbing facility on Voeld.

“I appreciate that, Jaal. I really do.” Sara smiled, feeling like it was the first time in a long while that she’d done so. “I’d be open to trying that hug again anytime. I might need the practice.”

Sara might have been subconsciously sending a signal then, possibly in her body language or the tone of her breath, so she did not fight it when she felt the couch shift beneath her when Jaal leaned closer. Apparently he was choosing now to try again, either impatient or maybe he’d needed it more than she initially thought. 

Something prickled against Sara’s awareness then, like a faint layer of static hovering in the space between them and she realized this was probably the angaran bioelectricity SAM had detected on Aya. Later reading and observations from SAM had confirmed it was not dangerous to her or any of the crew, so she gave it only a passing notice. It was maybe even a little pleasant, like a pull. 

Residual instinct however, made Sara first freeze as she felt his arms snake around her again, and Jaal seemed to feel it as he paused, sensing her initial discomfort. Sara did not feel the same aversion this time, having some context now, and maybe a little bit more interest in what hugging him would feel like.

So she relaxed, leaning into him, and reacting to this positive signal Jaal pulled her closer into the strangest hug Sara had ever felt. Strange in that, Jaal’s body was structured differently than she imagined, a portion of his upper-chest protruding forward in such a way that she found herself naturally tuck against him lower than normal. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just _different_ , but pleasant in a way that was so foreign to Sara her brain started firing wildly.

Immediately Sara noticed how warm he was, and how he smelled faintly of something sweet, but masculine, and she knew that was a weird thing to notice at the time and be completely okay with but she chose not to move away. Admittedly, the contact felt nice, and she didn’t really care where it was coming from, so it didn’t really occur to her to find this sudden shift in their interaction strange.. 

At some point Sara managed to get her arms around his waist to return the embrace, finding the endeavor difficult with how thick he was, but Jaal appeared to appreciate the sentiment as he exhaled a soft, contented breath against the top of her head. It seemed content at least, as the posture of his body felt relaxed and at ease, a quiet whisper of energy wafting over him where her head was touching him. His breath was warm against her scalp and moved her hair, and Sara adjusted in a way that had her move closer against him. 

Sara had wasted so much emotional energy convincing herself that Jaal Ama Darav disliked her, didn’t trust her, and wasn’t worth the effort she was putting in. Maybe she’d been kidding herself, so offended and hurt that not even someone new would see her as valuable that she blamed him personally, instead of the wariness that he had every right to harbor. But now, he was comforting her in a way that nobody else had. 

Or rather, they were comforting each other in that moment, and Sara could tell herself that finally meant something.

Eventually Sara pulled away first, sensing that if she didn’t the moment might not have ever ended. She suddenly felt awkward now, sitting next to Jaal who now had such a disappointed look on his face making their entire day’s interaction give her a serious case of whiplash.

Surprisingly though, Jaal spoke first. “I should… finish my report for Evfra.” He stood, now seeming to appear as if he wanted to flee the room as quickly as possible. “Thank you, for talking with me, Ryder. We will… speak later?” _Again_ , he said her name, and if she was hearing him right, he almost seemed like he was inviting her to visit him later.

“Sure, I’d like that.” Sara couldn’t help but smile again, watching after Jaal as he nodded quickly and hurried out of the room. What an… odd man. 

Sara was certainly feeling better moments later, having the silence in the room to reflect on such a warm, positive interaction that she actually sighed with pleasure.

“Pathfinder, you have new messages to review,” SAM intoned, his flickering, white orb blinking into glowy existence on her table. Sara looked at him sourly, as if he’d just interrupted something important, but sadly her work could not wait.

“Thank you, SAM,” she said, standing from the couch. “And please, call me _Sara_ from now on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't obvious, this was a flashback! I felt compelled to explore how they would speak and behave with each other at this point, so here we are. I may or may not do this a few times depending on what inspiration strikes me, but from here it's back to the present.


	13. Will You Stay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a moment of weakness, Sara asks Jaal for a next step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who reads and comments!
> 
> I'm reaching a point where this is getting so long, that I'm having to pay careful attention to make sure everything stays internally consistent. I've done the best I could, but there's always something I might miss. If you happen to catch an inconsistency don't be afraid to drop me a line. I've actual made a few super minor tweaks to older chapters for this very purpose (not something that would require a re-read of course).

Sitting back on her bed against the wall, Sara tapped the frame of the datapad she was holding. The picture on the display distorted momentarily before correcting itself. It was an old photo, one of many from home that she’d stored away in her personal archives before leaving the Milky Way: images of places and people that would soon only live on through these digital snapshots in time, long after Sara was gone. She’d gone through these photos many times since arriving in Andromeda, and with each successive slip-through, was starting to realize that the clarity of these things in her mind was starting to fade away with distance.

The particular photo Sara now looked at found Alec Ryder being the primary focus, which somehow always was the case despite the intent, as he had a way of drawing all the attention in a room without even trying. Photos captured in detail the detachment and elusiveness of her father in perfect clarity, the distance in his eyes immeasurable despite his physical presence in the images. His mind was always elsewhere, focused on himself and his work, exacerbated in later photos that were taken after their mother’s death. Before then, he would also be focused on her, and the twins his wife had brought into the world were oftentimes an inconvenience, and on better days, were just part of the background of their lives. Sara had long ago come to the conclusion that he had never wanted children, because that would take time away from what he really loved: Ellen Ryder, and his own personal fulfillment. They had loved each other, desperately, and while Sara had always tried to be happy for them for at least that, what she had really needed was always just out of her reach: parents who had time for her.

That was why Sara and Scott had bonded so profoundly: they took care of each other when what they really needed was their parents. Sara was the _mother_ when Scott needed a scrape disinfected, emergency laundry washed, or a dinner thrown together because both parents were out working late. Scott was the _father_ when she needed the same, and while they never resented their parents for the effort they had tried to put in, the twins always knew that they were missing something that other children had. To compensate, they had clung to each other.

Growing up, Scott had become increasingly more desperate for their father’s attention; there were things Sara couldn’t stand in as a replacement for that she knew her brother needed, though that didn’t stop her from trying. She had long given up on forming a close relationship with Alec, even though reaching adulthood had opened up paths of communication with Ellen that hadn’t always been there for her. Ellen had more time, and while some of their frayed connections with their mother had been able to heal, it seemed as if their father was pulling further away.

This led to Scott resorting to even more desperate means of getting his attention, many of them less than legal, which had the opposite effect he had wanted. Sara had bailed him out of C-Sec lockup more times than she cared to remember, because Alec would refuse to even acknowledge it. His own son garnering a reputation amongst the Citadel law enforcement was a shame that he preferred to ignore, even if it would have been so easy to stop it by his own actions. Meanwhile, Sara was on a first-name basis with many of the officers: Salonus, Tarila, Garrus, Owen. They were mostly all dead now, but Sara could still remember getting to the point where she would casually joke with them about bailing out the _problem_ Ryder again, as if she’d just had those conversations yesterday.

Finally, failing that, Scott made the only life-altering choice that would get everyone’s attention. Scott joined the Earth Systems Alliance.

That was the photo Sara was looking at now, and she still remembered this moment well, despite the people in the image practically feeling like strangers now.. Her and Scott flanked Alec Ryder in a large, pompously decorated ballroom, with brilliantly colored banners strewn with the Alliance insignia surrounding them. It felt like such a long time ago—technically was a long time ago—Scott in his Alliance dress uniform, and Sara in some of the nicest clothes she had owned at the time. Alec wasn’t smiling, despite his hands being on both of their shoulders in a feigned display of closeness that had felt forced even then. She and Scott were smiling, but it was coerced at best, wanting to make sure that this photo their father had insisted on taking was one he could be proud of. Even then, there was a sense of distance in the image, despite the physical gaps between the trio, because Ellen Ryder had died just weeks before. In Alec’s eyes you could still see the grief, that the three of them had been masterfully hiding from each other.

This photo was from Scott’s graduation ceremony from Alliance basic training. Sara remembered immediately after this photo was taken, spending the rest of the evening with her brother in a dark corner of the banquet hall, drinking expensive wine and reminiscing about better times they had exclusively shared together. She remembered trying so hard to keep him distracted from the fact that Alec had already left—citing work, which they would later learn was finishing SAM— even though it was the only time he’d said he was proud of his son. Of _either_ of his children.

Of course, Scott joining the Alliance to chase Alec Ryder’s pedigree, in a last-ditch effort to get his father’s attention would be the only thing that made him proud. Scott would vehemently deny this being his motive for joining the Alliance, maybe out of shame or embarrassment for that being the reason driving such a life-altering decision. Whether her brother realized it or not, that was probably what drew him to a life in military in the first place. He even _looked_ like their father; Sara took after their mother more, while Scott had inherited Alec’s height, mussy dark hair and razor-sharp jawline that could have cut glass. In a superficial way, that had made him an Alliance darling, and he had worked damn hard to prove his capabilities were just as meaningful as his N7 predecessor.

A year later Scott would be sacrificing his career in the Alliance to follow Alec Ryder and his sister to the Andromeda galaxy. There would be nothing left for them in the Milky Way, with the family reputation then in shambles, and nothing but ridicule and disdain that would prove to be a burden Scott didn’t want to face alone. After several begging attempts from Sara, Scott would finally relent and join her on the Hyperion, following in Alec’s proverbial footsteps one last time. Maybe, this fresh start had been what they needed, and they would finally become the family they had so far struggled to be.

Sara really missed that dress. It would be so out of place now, in this world of utilitarian practicality necessary for their very survival, but _damn it_ what she wouldn’t give to dress up and feel like something other than a struggling pioneer on the cusp of extinction for once.

Eventually, Sara couldn’t bring herself to look at the photo any longer. It was dredging up too many memories, seeing her dead father and feeling an empty sense of _nothing_ ; particularly distressing in light of everything. She hurriedly put the data pad on the bed next to her as if she’d been burned, putting her face in her hands to block out all the light. Her room was dim, but it was somehow too much, and yet she didn’t want to sit alone in the dark. She didn’t want the Tempest’s light-trails from its FTL sprint back to the Nexus to remind her of where she was, or where she was going.

After SAM had alerted her to Scott’s sudden revival, she had quickly made her way to the vidcomm deck to immediately call the Hyperion. Harry had tried to contact her, but she’d been so distracted by Jaal that SAM had opted to wait to give her the message till she had left the showers. Sara cursed at herself more than anything. Of course she didn’t blame Jaal, he had no idea, but really, she shouldn’t have been blaming herself either. She’d gotten so used to hearing no news that she’d simply let Scott’s situation slip into the back of her mind on-hold, and that made her feel monumental guilt.

Her vid call with Harry had been brief, only to glean that Scott had been awake for a few hours, was stable, talking, and _okay_ , thank the gods. That was all she’d needed to hear to make the decision to immediately divert their current course back to the Nexus, and while Kallo seemed startled and resistant to changing the nav mid-FTL at first, as soon as she told him why he’d put up no further arguments.

Harry must have contacted Lexi afterwards then, because she’d left the medbay as soon as Sara rushed past. It was annoying how the asari seemed to have a sixth sense about that sort of thing, always seeming to know when Sara was in the hallway and in distress. She only gave Lexi a passing acknowledgment to say that she was fine, she was tired, and she really, _desperately_ just wanted to take a fucking shower and could people please just leave her alone.

To Lexi’s credit she let Sara go, and Sara immediately felt guilty snapping at her like that, but an apology would just have to wait.

So, she’d taken her shower, finally, and it wasn’t quite as pleasant as she’d wanted it to be. Anxiety and frustration frayed at her nerves as she stood in the cold spray, letting the water run down her body to wash the sand and sweat off her skin, like an upper-layer exposing the raw feeling underneath. She’d briefly considered opening up the cleanser Jaal had given her, the ornate, decorative container sticking out like a sore thumb on the wire shelf amidst the plain, nondescript bottles from Initiative stocks. Thinking better of it, she opted to wait for a time where she would enjoy it, and not waste it on a sour mood, regardless of how much it might have perked her up. Until she saw Scott with her own eyes, nothing anyone said about his condition would ease her mind. Even worse, she had to face her brother, the last family she had left in this universe, having lied to him. He was now going to find out very quickly that Alec Ryder had been killed in action, and nothing was as it was supposed to be, and she wasn’t going to be there when it happened. And, she had hidden it from him. What in all of Heleus was she going to say?

Worst of all, she had a few days of travel to dwell on it, and hate herself for it.

Sara was not proud of the fact that she chose then to bury her face into her pillows to stave off the panic, born from the unknown and blindness to what her brother was experiencing on the other side. He had not tried to contact her, which could have been good or bad; it was possible there was too much going on with his recovery that he hadn’t had time for it yet. The other possibility was much more simple: he was just _mad_. Sara curled her legs against her front and tried to make herself as small as possible, wanting nothing more in that moment to just disappear, because then, she wouldn’t have to deal with this.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to block out the images of Alec Ryder as he stood over her gasping, convulsing body on Habitat 7 while toxic air filled her lungs. No matter how much she tried to change the narrative in her own mind, he would not stop removing his helmet in air he couldn’t breath to save his daughter, who’d gotten her own stupid helmet cracked open. The images faded in and out, like even in death her father was reminding her that he was unreliable, but he was going to make damn sure that she still ended up indebted to him in some way. And he somehow did so with an affirming, warm, and finalizing smile on his face, like he _knew_ he was making up for all the lost disappointments and time. A final sacrifice. The only real atonement Alec Ryder knew how to achieve.

What Sara needed right now, was to have her brother here with her, because he knew what it felt like to be so conflicted about a man you wanted to love but didn’t know how. But what would Scott think of _her_ now, once he knew the truth? Sara was sick and scared about what the reality of that would be when she returned to the Nexus to be by his side, because the last thing she needed was to lose him too. And surely, by now, Scott knew the truth. There would be no escaping it, because as if there wasn’t enough to report, the meager news network that had been put together couldn’t shut up about the death of the human Pathfinder.

The door to her quarters swooshed open then, and Sara froze the second before she heard Jaal’s voice calling back to Liam somewhere out in the hall— _“You will... ‘get owned’ the next time we are in Prodromos...”_ —It was Liam’s stupid football game that he insisted on the crew playing together when they returned, a _bonding_ exercise he had called it. At the time Sara had laughed right in his face, imagining the disaster it would be, because she didn’t know the first thing about playing football. Now it just sounded like a monumental, pointless waste of time to her. Jaal’s earnest, but probably misplaced, enthusiasm for it wasn’t going to be enough to win her over. Nothing would, especially right now. Sara had also completely forgotten that she had given Jaal free access to her room when they’d returned from Havarl. _He didn’t know._

Sara quickly tried to compose herself by sitting up, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of the much-too-large Initiative-issue henley she’d chosen to sleep in, but it was too late. Her expression must have been pure fight-or-flight, because as soon as the doors shut behind Jaal, his beaming, warm smile dropped as he froze.

“Darling one, you—what is wrong?!” Of course, he rushed to her side, practically throwing himself on her bed as if she needed rescuing, though truth be told she probably did in just that moment because she felt something dislodge inside herself. It was as if seeing Jaal, made her feeble bit of composure break again, and she collapsed into him weeping. _What is wrong with me?_

If patience was an angaran trait, then Jaal was a well-practiced master at it, sitting at the edge of Sara’s bed silently while he let her cry herself to exhaustion. She’d fallen against him naturally as soon as he was within grabbing-range, her face wedged into that fascinating little nook on his upper breast as he melded against her. His arms were firm around her, a tight, powerful rope keeping her from falling apart as she felt herself mentally begin to collapse. Scott— _gods_ , it was like she hadn’t even allowed herself the time to truly absorb his absence and what it meant to her, blocking the hole it left behind with the multitude of problems this galaxy had offered so far, and that festering plug had finally been pried free.

Jaal tucked against her tighter, his own breathing strong and steady as he pressed his face against her temple like a firm, confident nuzzle to remind her that he was there—that _someone_ was there. As he curled protectively around her seizing body, her ghosts, and her demons, and whatever fears closed in on her in the dark could be kept at bay. He was that grounding rod that she could tie strings around to anchor herself down, something to cling to as she wore herself completely out to the point of exhaustion. The constant, even stroking of his gentle palm against her scalp pulled her back to reality as she came down by measures.

“S-sorry…” Sara finally mumbled, hiccupping as her breath jerked in her throat. Now her face was hot, and puffy, and she just knew that she probably looked like the mess she felt. She could barely even breath, so stuffed up from crying that her voice sounded pathetic to her own ears, and her head was beginning to throb from the first tendrils of the headache she was dreading. SAM would probably take care of that, though he’d been unusually quiet since first alerting her to Scott’s change in condition; probably to allow her space.

“Sara...don’t apologize,” Jaal had gently pulled her face around to look at him, his hands cupping her cheeks like she was something precious. She didn’t have the strength to feel even a little bit self-conscious of the way she must have presented visually to him, or the fact that she had managed to soak the angaran shirt that he wore with her own tears, because he just didn’t care. “Did... I upset you earlier?” His frown was slight, but it was no less clear to Sara that he was feeling her pain. The calm, stormy blue of his eyes searched her face for an answer as she finally managed to look at him fully.

 _Oh, of course he didn’t know._ He thought...maybe what had happened earlier in the showers had upset her, possibly offended her or crossed a line, only to come into the room and find her an emotional trainwreck. Jaal couldn’t possibly know that this wasn’t the case, because he didn’t know about Scott. All he knew, was that Sara was upset, and he didn’t know why.

And this wasn’t the first time either, though, the circumstances then had been different. _They_ had been different, nearly strangers then finding their first footing together that would only solidify over time.

“N-no!” Sara quickly interjected, feeling frustrated at her inability to get the words out in a solid string. Her throat kept jumping in a rather unattractive manner, making her voice hitch uncomfortably every time she tried to speak. “N-n-not you, a—ugh.” She sniffed deeply and cleared her throat, pausing to get control of herself.. “I...It’s S-scott. He’s awake.” Speaking that outloud felt so odd, but welcome, despite the fact that she still had no idea how Scott was going to receive her. 

“That is extraordinary news!” Jaal’s open look of surprise and joy on her behalf cut Sara deep, his eyes wide and bright as a spark seemed to flash from deep within. The fact that he looked as thrilled as she knew _she_ should was not lost on her, the shame palpable as much as it was obvious. Jaal’s smile faded after a beat of silent hesitation, his head tilting as the lines around his mouth crinkled to a deep frown. “...Is it not, dearest?”

“No—I mean, _yes_ —” Sara stopped to compose herself, her throat finally not seizing anytime she tried to speak. “It is...but the _timing_ —” She shook her head, stray tears breaking free from her eyes to slide down her cheek, only to be brushed away by Jaal’s thumbs. His hands were so warm, burning her already flushed face.

“You are not there for him.” Jaal confirmed, his eyes warm and thoughtful as he nodded in understanding. “If he is as strong as you, I am certain he is okay.”

“Hah… thanks,“ Sara scoffed, knowing Jaal was just trying to help. She didn’t feel particularly strong in that moment, so it almost felt like a joke. “Except, his timing couldn’t have been worse. Couldn’t he have at least waited until I was there before he woke up?” Jaal was quiet, perhaps sensing through her sarcasm that she had more to say, though his hands still held her face. “I… wanted to be there when he found out…” She looked down, though not in an effort to avoid his eyes, because they were only understanding.

“About your father.”

“Yes. I—I lied to him.” Jaal nodded in affirmation; they had discussed this before. He knew the basics, but she hadn’t exactly made a habit of talking about Scott to _anyone_. Sara really didn’t know why that was. It was like any mention of him was a bad omen: whispers that would reach him and somehow undo his recovery or kill him, and then he’d be gone. She’d been afraid to face that possibility. “When we talked… it was… brief… and he wasn’t quite stable, but Jaal it was him. I didn’t want to hurt him—why did I do that?”

“I assume that, you chose to shield him from something that would be very painful.” Sara had spent some time wondering if Jaal had passed judgment on her for this: for lying to Scott about something so personal, but his eyes were nothing but compassionate. So, he _did_ understand. “You were protecting him.”

“Yes.” Sara said under her breath, finally allowing herself a moment of composure to re-align herself. “I couldn’t do it. I was afraid it would kill him…He was so _weak_...”

“It will be alright.” Jaal shifted her, somehow managing to move her dead weight to pull her into a position where she was almost sitting on his lap, head falling back against him naturally. “It is likely that he will be upset for a time, but surely, he will come to understand your reasoning.” There was no room for interpretation in Jaal’s words, his confidence in assuming that everything would be fine apparent in the finality of his tone.

Somehow, this helped. Between her utter exhaustion, and the faint rumbling coming from deep within Jaal’s chest, Sara found some reprieve. She finally felt _safe_. His constant, gentle stroking through her hair was starting to coax her eyes closed, and the _hum_ —it was hard to tell if Jaal was actually humming, or if that was another one of his bioelectric communication cues meant to provide comfort. Whatever it was, she damn sure didn’t want him to stop.

“Jaal,” Sara pressed after a moment, her hand closing firmly around his forearm that was currently wrapped in a protective angle around her head. She knew what she wanted; what she _needed_. “Please… please stay here tonight.” She realized the second after the words tumbled out of her mouth that she’d just asked something pretty major. Backpeddling, she fumbled with a way to explain herself as sudden alarm rippled through her core. “I mean— I don’t want to be alone right now. I’ll sleep better if you’re here.”

“Of course, my darling one…” Jaal didn’t even hesitate as he pressed a quick kiss to her head, perhaps sensing her needs better than she could really voice it. “If it would help you, I am more than happy to stay here.” Sara could sense that Jaal was looking around, getting a feel for the surroundings he probably had memorized by now. “Where would you like me to sleep? I supposed I could make the couch agreeable.” Or, maybe he hadn’t _quite_ got it, and it wasn’t just the uncertainty in his voice about whether or not her couch would comfortably accommodate him. He simply hadn’t understood her roundabout way of asking him to literally sleep in the same bed with her, which was something she should have probably figured out before opening her mouth; she needed to be _blunt_.

“No… _here_.” Sara felt Jaal tense, the hand on her back tightening for a second, and Sara feared that she’d just created a huge misunderstanding. She wasn’t trying to be pushy or imply any sort of romantic intent other than just needing his company right now. “I just wanted you next to me because I’ll feel safer, but if that’s not okay with you—”

Jaal laughed softly then, relaxing. It was clear then that her fears had been unfounded, as she felt a pulse of energy waft over her like a caress, the same moment his hands ran up her back to rest at the nape of her neck. Sara felt it then, the tingling warmth of his current traveling down her spine that she had gotten so accustomed to feeling, and appreciating. “I understand what it is you mean. My hesitance then was not a lack of desire. I was simply surprised that you would ask.” His arms around her loosened and he eased away, careful to leave a palm against her cheek as he looked at her warmly. “I will have to...ah… find something to sleep in.”

“Angara sleep naked, don’t they?” Sara half wondered if Jaal was messing with her again, because he’d said it with such a lopsided smirk it was possible he hadn’t been serious. Or at the very least, he was making a show of pointing it out in order to pry a smile out of her. It certainly...helped.

“I hope you don’t think I make a habit of sleeping in my armor.” He almost sounded scandalized, if not for the smile on his face as he sat back, feigning offense.

“Of course, what was I thinking?” Sara managed, glad to have a reason to sass at him and forget how miserable she had felt just minutes before.

“There are circumstances where it is necessary to sleep clothed,” Jaal finally explained, looking thoughtful. “Normally, we do not—”

“You don’t have to explain it to me, that’s not actually the weirdest thing you do,” Sara said wryly, feeling her spirits perked as she managed a smile. Jaal gave her a fondly exasperated look, pursing his lips in the angaran equivalent of a pout, though it was clearly a ruse. “It was a weird thing to ask… so if you don’t think...” She regretted however, the possibility of putting him in a tricky position, and while she didn’t doubt he _wanted to_ , maybe this was taking too big of a step than he was comfortable with right now.

“It would bring me nothing but happiness to stay here with you, if that is what you want.” Jaal’s voice dropped low, rumbling in an almost suggestive way that had Sara’s heart skip a beat. She knew Jaal’s intent was to impart trust and an impulsive desire to please her, though selfishly, he probably wanted an excuse to be close to her too. She wasn’t about to deprive him of that, and if he said he was happy, then she would trust him, _gladly_ , because on this night she really didn’t want to be alone.

“Um… I think there might be some Initiative issue stuff in my closet. Too big for me.” Sara paused, looking around before gesturing to the right side of the room near the door. “There was still a lot of my father’s stuff in here… waiting for him.” She halted a moment, the reality of that statement giving her pause as the meaning really sunk in: he never made use of any of it, because he had died before even getting the chance. Such a...waste.

“...It might be stretchy enough to fit you. If you don’t want to walk all the way back to the Tech Lab, of course.” Sara felt more solemn now, and it was the dryness of her words that would prompt Jaal to hesitate before following her gesture to give her a lingering look. He was _reading_ it, recognizing her distress. This was probably exactly what encouraged him to follow her suggestion, rather than fetch his own comfortable clothing that he might have preferred, as if he thought leaving her would be a mistake.

“In here?” Jaal said pointedly as he stepped away from the bed, his hand sliding against hers as he moved away; a desire to stay connected as long as possible before padding over to the closet that looked like it was getting ready to explode.

“Yeah, I sort of shoved everything into a drawer on the bottom.” Casual things, like large t-shirts, sweatpants, even some large undergarments that she would never use had been left there forgotten. Sara had put aside some of the shirts and sweatpants for herself to lounge in, but there had been more than she needed. Maybe Jaal could get some use out of them, even though his body structure was antithetical to what they had originally been made for. “Not that!”

Sara had to leap off her bed and practically vault at him, just as he was pawing through a disorganized pile that had amassed over the very drawer she was talking about. She had completely forgotten about it, resigned to let it accumulate organically because eventually she just couldn’t bother to put clean clothing away. It wasn’t like the kett cared if her shirt was wrinkled, they would shoot at her regardless of how put together she looked. That was why she didn’t particularly resent the fact that he was pulling one of her bras from the pile as if it would release the entire blockade free like a pulley.

“What is this?” It wasn’t _scandalous_ , just Initiative issue and basic white and blue cotton, but it didn’t stop her from blushing when she snatched it out of his hand. His face was absurdly blank, to the point that she mistrusted his curiosity as something that was masking more devious thoughts.

“It’s for support. Something people with... breasts wear.” Sara blurted, watching Jaal’s expression change from something indecipherable to amusement at how stupidly difficult it was for her to explain something so mundane. “ _Like me._ ”

“Ah, it is an undergarment. You wear this?” His tone was innocent, bordering on suspicious, as if he already knew the answer to the question he was asking but was just waiting for her to say it. It was underwear, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if the angara had their own variants even though their anatomy differed in a few key areas. Though, that called to question why Jaal had wandered into an “armor swap” completely naked and _without_ any sort of said undergarments. Either Liam had trolled him and told him it was necessary to be _free_ , or angara actually didn’t. To Sara’s recollection, and she could have blushed at the thought, angara didn’t have anything immediately exposed that needed constant support.

So right now, Sara thought that Jaal was clearly toying with her. His eyes spoke volumes, and she could _see it_ in the way his eyes traveled over her in the excitement of prodding her, and that was the biggest giveaway of them all.

“Okay. I think you’re pretending not to know to mess with me,” Sara deadpanned, trying to give him an opening to come clean, but he wasn’t about to fall for it.

“I would never do such a thing!” Jaal said, affronted, though his voice was unusually, almost purposefully higher than usual.

Sara squinted at him, grimacing in feigned disgust as she bit back a laugh. “I’m not sure I believe you, Jaal Ama Darav. But yes, to answer your question, I do wear this.” She took a breathe, knowing she was taking his bait, but also kind of curious to see where this train of conversation eventually derailed and burned. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I have some parts on me that only a few other people on this ship have. Something angara females don’t appear to have.”

“Ah, yes. I had noticed. Considering our closeness it is only natural for me to acknowledge the things about you that may differ from what I am used to.” Jaal had masterfully shifted his tone to something more neutral, taking on an air of poise that could have easily been mistaken for a generic sentiment had Sara not already known _he was being a little shit_. 

“You say that as if you think I haven’t caught you already, and that I wasn’t letting you stare.” Sara said coyly. “If I wasn’t, you would have found that out. Painfully.”

Jaal scratched at his cowl, looking rather disturbingly lost, though Sara could have sworn she saw the corner of his lip twitch as if holding back the smile that would give him away. “I am still not clear on how you wear that.”

“Oh my god, Jaal.” Sara threw her arms up in mock frustration. “Look.” With an exasperated huff Sara lifted it up to her chest, in the general area that it would sit on her body, to give him a visual to work off of. “Does this help?”

Jaal’s expression didn’t move as much as Sara anticipated, and for a minute she wondered if maybe he _didn’t_ really know. Angaran females clearly didn’t have breasts, so there was no reason that he would immediately think of them in a sexual manner, so the basics could possibly just be completely lost on him. Maybe this whole exercise in frustration had just been a clumsy attempt to get her to explain something mundane to him in a no-nonsense manner, and she had completely misinterpreted his questioning other than the innocent naivety it actually was. She was the one who had gotten herself lost in needlessly sexualizing her own body in ways that Jaal hadn’t been culturally conditioned to—

And then he smiled.

“You ass. You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” Sara had been played, masterfully.

“Sara...it wasn’t difficult to see what it was for. But I enjoyed watching you explain it to me.” His smile was dark as he captured her chin under his thumb, brushing lightly against her lip. “I wondered how long it would take you to show me.”

“Yeah well, that’s all you’re getting tonight. Savor the image.” Sara said drolly, balling up the offending article of clothing before throwing it off to the side. She paused, the nagging need to know just how much of an ass she’d made of herself, outweighing the more common-sense approach of changing the subject. “Just how much of that did you already know?”

“I may have already glanced at some literature.” Jaal had averted his eyes to return to the pile, before pulling the entire thing out for it to dump into a single heap on the floor. He was either intentionally avoiding looking directly at her, or didn’t realize that Sara was acting far more scandalized than she should be. “To understand what these… parts of you are for.”

“Well, I guess I deserve that, considering I’ve been a bit liberal with my own biological studies lately. Besides, I know you prefer to take things apart yourself.” How could she forget, after several conversations with him, that he was more _hands on_. “Maybe if you can behave for longer than an hour I’ll eventually let you do some exploratory research with these… _parts_ of me.”

Jaal had gone completely still, and Sara _knew_ he was staring at her because that had been the reaction she’d been looking for as she intentionally let the previous statement hang between them. Averting her attention back to the pile, she tried to feign nonchalant disinterest while she rummaged around for the elusive article of clothing. Just as she sensed Jaal was about to open his mouth, Sara caught sight of her prey, and plunged her hand into the pile, pulling out the exact thing she was looking for.

“Here they are!” Sara chirped, holding up a large pair of Initiative issue sweatpants for inspection. Looking at them up against Jaal, she frowned. They were going to be much too short for him, and they weren’t designed the right way to accommodate the way his legs bent. His thighs were possibly not even going to fit, though his waist was probably going to be fine.

Jaal smiled, looking completely passed the clothing to practically lance her with his gaze, and Sara couldn’t help but blush at what was suggested behind it. “Don’t think I didn’t see you change the topic, Sara. I’ll remember this conversation.” His eyes passed over hers with an air of an unspoken promise once she finally made eye-contact, before looking towards the garment she held up. Then, he frowned, his attention mercifully diverted then from her stupid, self-satisfied grin. “It does not look like it will fit.”

“Well, try it anyway?” Sara waved the pants at him impetuously, her own impish look missed by him as he regarded the human clothing with a sense of unease. Jaal gingerly took them from her and began to move the fabric around with his hands, as if testing the alien cloth against his skin. Feeling satisfied, and maybe a bit like a mouse that kind of wanted to be caught, she opted to turn around in order to give him privacy. Jaal had already said many times that she was free to look at him in various states of undress so he wouldn’t have cared, but the actual act of _watching_ him take his clothes off still felt kind of invasive. Spirits knew she wanted to, but despite all the insinuation in the world they weren’t quite there yet, she reasoned. So, retreating back to her bed where she could make herself busy by rearranging the pillows into something more angaran, seemed like a good use of her time. All the Milky Way species had slightly different ways that they slept, so it wasn’t really unusual to see that angaran beds were different. Sara had already slept in one after all, but she still wasn’t clear if there was a physical function behind it that was designed around their physiology. It could have simply been cultural evolution or decorative, but the last thing she wanted was to present something to Jaal that he’d find uncomfortable. He wouldn’t complain either way, that was beyond him, but given that his entire neck section was vastly thicker than hers Sara didn’t want to take any chances and have him potentially strain something.

Finally, she had all her pillows propped up against the headboard to create something of a slope. It looked a bit pathetic compared to her source of inspiration but it would have to do for now. It was probably time to request some more pillows from her Pathfinder “budget,” and the amount she thought to ask for was probably going to raise some eyebrows given that the vision in her head was akin to a miniaturized mountain. _Go big, or go home_ , Sara thought, given that it was a good enough excuse to indulge a little bit, seeing as the Initiative pillows were...lacking. The more, the better, and maybe she’d use the opportunity to do some personal shopping the next time they were on Aya. She hadn’t even thought to buy things for herself: basic comforts and trinkets from the angara markets, so maybe some decorative angaran pillows was a good place to start hunting. Especially, if Jaal was going to be sharing the room with her more often now it would probably be nice to add little touches that he’d recognize. It would be as much for him, as for her own desire to spruce the room up a bit, so that it wasn’t strictly cold metal and drab Initiative coloring.

This rearranging and mental scheming in her head had successfully wasted enough time, because she could sense that Jaal was finished behind her after a lengthened period of silence. He must have been very adept at removing his own clothing, as Sara only heard the rustling of fabric for less than a minute before he cursed under his breath, followed by the pause. Eventually, his voice entered into her space from behind. “Let’s restrict this nightwear to just this room, I think...” He sounded hesitant, as if he wasn’t quite sure how she was going to react to him.

“It can’t be that bad.” Sara turned around, not sure what she was expecting to see, but certainly not expecting to immediately laugh as soon as she laid eyes on him. Her hand flung to her mouth, trying to stifle it before it got out of hand, though thankfully Jaal’s expression communicated that he’d fully expected this exact reaction. “Wait, oh no, you look so uncomfortable, Jaal.” Sara’s observations on how the clothing would fit him had been pretty spot on.

Jaal stood before her, the pants badly conforming to the upper reaches of his leg where it looked like they were straining at the seams, but the lower part completely exposed as the hem couldn’t quite reach his ankles. The folds unflatteringly fitted around the various curves of his anatomy through his groin, looking incredibly tight and uncomfortable. The waistband hung awkwardly loose, higher on his body than she had anticipated, because angaran hips apparently sat much lower than a human’s.

“I’m so sorry, Jaal. You look so silly… but also _precious_ ,” Sara emphasized, flashing him as sweet a smile as she could muster as his eyes glittered with mirth. She was trying _so hard_ not the laugh, while simultaneously thanking the gods that Jaal was so damned accommodating for her. Previous boyfriends would have insisted on doing whatever _they_ wanted, which, was probably why they hadn’t lasted very long.

“That is all one can ask for.” Through his tone it was clear Jaal wasn’t serious, though his expression lacked any insincerity that would have hinted at any real displeasure in the situation. He might have even been blushing, the high points of his cheeks sporting a healthy stain of indigo that was probably a result of Sara’s fawning. “I would like it to be known, that this was your idea.” He looked down at himself with a frown then, smoothing his hands along his still very naked chest. Though Sara didn’t mind the show of his abdomen muscles, perfectly toned and defined as they were, she still felt compelled to offer him the opportunity to fully cover up.

“The shirts probably won’t fit you quite as awkwardly…”

“I would rather… _pass_ on that if I could…” Jaal said, parroting an expression he had learned some time ago. “Unless you would prefer—”

“NO!—I mean...no, your chest is fine how it is.” Well _that_ had been masterfully awkward, and Sara hadn’t entirely meant to sound so desperate. “I mean, you look fine shirtless. I want you to do what’s comfortable.” She put both hands to her forehead, stopping herself before her words got so far ahead of her she couldn’t stop them. “Just come to bed, you sexy clown.” Sara scrambled into bed about as gracefully as a fish out of water, settling on the far side of the mattress to make as much room as she could. Once she finally got herself situated she turned, throwing the blankets aside to invite him in excitedly, and maybe a little bit fraught with nerves too. She was definitely not prepared for the sight of him walking to bed towards her...shirtless.

“I do not know what a _clown_ is…” It sort of killed the image, but she would manage to look past it as he stood before her on the edge, perhaps, just a _little bit longer_ than necessary as if he wanted to make sure she had time to drink him in—and _drink_ she did, having to stop herself from eyeballing the line down his torso again as her heart started to do funny flips in her chest.

“Careful, darling one… if you stare too long I might get the wrong idea…”

“Ugh, just get in it’s getting cold.” Sara grumbled in a completely faked display of petulance at being caught, though her pulse hammered pleasantly at the very implication of the things they could eventually get up to in her bed. _Distraction needed._ “I still have time to kick you out, you know.”

“You could.” Jaal rumbled in the affirmative, though the way his mouth twitched was the tell that he was confident there was no bite behind her threat—obviously at the first sign of her own discomfort or hesitation, Sara knew Jaal would stop and remove himself from the situation, but that was not on the agenda. She wanted his closeness now, for her own peace of mind, but she couldn’t stop thinking about where things could go. It was entirely possible the same things were going through his mind too while he stood there, eyes soft, but practically _screaming_ his internal thoughts as the black began to swallow the blue. They were probably going to find themselves in this position often, balancing their clearly mutual desire for physical closeness and taking their time and making sure they did it _right_.

Right now though, it was strictly innocent, and Jaal clearly knew this too as he flashed her an endearing grin while he took stock of the sleeping situation before him. It didn’t need hurried explanation anymore, and Sara was comforted by the fact that Jaal was just happy to share the space with her and keep her company.

Jaal was far more graceful than she was, even in the poorly- fitted pants he was currently wearing, as he slid into bed next to her with a fluid ease that was almost unnatural. The bed shifted in a way that was wholly unfamiliar to Sara beneath his greater weight, as he quietly made a process out of arranging the pillows and blankets around her, almost like he was tucking her in…

Sara watched him, his sheer concentration endearing all on its own, aside from the fact that he was trying to ensure that she felt comfortable and secure. That alone could have made her melt, his genuine concern and affection, and she could have watched him for hours getting lost in the earnestness behind such a simple gesture.

Finally he settled, laying down with a shy distance between them that managed to still feel natural. Neither one of them moved first, but somehow still managing to simultaneously reach for the other’s hand across the small gap that separated them.

“Thank you…” Sara finally said, watching the way Jaal’s eyes moved against her face with a soft reverence that she was certain meant he was warring with his own desire to be closer. He remained unmoving however, eyes finally fixing intently on her own. “For making me feel better.”

“That is something I will always be here to do…” His voice rumbled in the lower register, words slow and deliberate as they resonated between them, and Sara almost felt it beneath her against the mattress. He looked so relaxed and at ease, reclined back in the warm swathe of pillows and blankets he had just spent so much time perfecting. She was so glad that he looked so comfortable, and that maybe her clever arrangement of the pillows had helped.

“Do you… remember the first time you did that?” Sara remembered, what felt like ages ago now, a particular evening where Jaal had come to her quarters after a rather difficult mission on Voeld. Looking at him now in this completely new light—lying next to her in bed with his hand entwined within her own, face blissful as the dim, ambient light made the shocking blue of his eyes radiant with affection—was a stark reminder of how far they’d come since that night.

“I do…” He shifted, burrowing a bit further against the mattress as he squeezed her hand gently in confirmation. There was a soft, knowing smile on his face, telling Sara that he remembered that night quite well.

“When the Moshae was here?” Even after all this time, Sara still couldn’t bring herself to mention the Cardinal out loud. She had gotten long past the point where the dead kett leader haunted her dreams at night, though it was still an ordeal she’d rather forget.

“It was the first time I held you.”

“Hah, so _that’s_ how you remember it?” Sara was surprised to learn that Jaal had possibly placed the same level of significance on the encounter as she did. Or, at least something close to it, considering it was now so long ago. It was the first time they’d really _broken the ice_ , talked, and learned some things about each other after explicit avoidance. It was also of course, the first time that Jaal had hugged her, the two of them finding solace in one another over their shared ordeal: their first real thread of connection across galaxies. “Can I ask you something?”

“I suspect you are going to ask me how I felt when I left your room that night…” It was like he was reading her mind. Sara could have fooled herself into thinking that he could, his eyes so deeply engrossed on her as he spoke out-loud exactly what she had been thinking about saying.

“Really? Why would you say that?” Sara pursed her lips, trying to encourage him to continue with expression alone, and she found him smiling whimsically at her feigned ignorance.

“Because I did not do a good job of hiding how I felt…” Jaal stilled then, his eyes drifting away from her slightly. “I was… surprised… and possibly frightened… by what I felt that night.”

“Oh…”

Jaal’s gaze returned to her’s then, insistent. “It would eventually bring me joy, to embrace what I think may have first been seeded that night.”

“Are you admitting that you had feelings for me that soon?”

The flat plane of his nose crinkled, an expression Sara had learned was a light-hearted chastisement for her sometimes hasty conclusions, though it was loving. “I was first frightened and confused, as I had never encountered an alien quite like you before. I did not know how to understand what I was feeling… why I was drawn to you. Although, I was also curious.”

“Is that why you didn’t shut me out anymore?” Sara had always felt that gates had been opened that night. That had been a larger… catalyst of sorts that would finally compel Jaal to leave the isolation of the tech lab to curiously seek them out; one of Gil’s poker games, of all times, had been his first foray into integration as he’d tentatively hovered near their game before finally being invited to join them—which, hadn’t taken long, as Gil had jumped at the chance to wipe the floor with their newcomer and fluff up his own ego with the promise of a healthier credit chit.

Gil would later regret that choice, as Jaal had suspiciously mastered the game immediately, in turn, _wiping the floor_ with Gil’s smug face and practically bleeding the human dry. That had probably been the first time the crew had gone from hesitant mistrust, to earnest appreciation and acceptance of Jaal’s place among them.

The following months had been filled with much of Jaal and Sara’s free-time spent together, talking over their weapons and armor as initial “excuses” for their visits until they had become more personal. By that time Sara knew the crew had already began to talk amongst themselves about how often their Pathfinder seemed to be in the same room as their angaran crew mate. She hadn’t really caught onto it at that time; their time together was just casual and friendly...maybe mildly flirtatious even then as they found themselves slipping away to eat lunch together (including, making fun of each other’s food) or explore a part of their current port. Sara found herself seeking him out in the shuttle bay where he would be working on the small angaran craft docked there, or the tech lab, or… anywhere really, but she’d chalked it up to being curious, even if hindsight told her deep down that wasn’t entirely truthful. She was eager to see him as she went about her day, and would often find herself going to sleep at night with the thought of talking to him again in the morning the only thing that kept her resentment at the Initiative, and the oppressing weight of _everything_ from killing her. He had stopped her from crying nearly every night as she had done before, mourning the loss of a homeworld and a society she was never going to see again.

They’d remained in that holding pattern for a time, perhaps still figuring out each other’s boundaries. It was far from perfect, and they would sometimes say something that would offend the other, sometimes with explosive results. Sara remembered in perfectly clarity a particular upset that had her trying to throw him out of her room, only to find herself leaving her _own_ room in a huff when his stubborn ass wouldn’t leave. That had resulted in the strangest make-up gift she had ever encountered: an atonement for what he had correctly perceived he’d done wrong. It had been a perfume that he’d made himself, from his own stocks of oils he had explained, and it had been the most extraordinarily thoughtful thing to happen to her since… forever. Her belly had fluttered the first time she’d smelled its sweetness, the distinct notes of the perfume so shockingly appropriate to her tastes and her very essence, that she could have almost fooled herself into thinking Jaal had known her for centuries. For _lifetimes_. Looking back, the gift now seemed so blatantly intimate that she was shocked that it had taken her so long to not be so unsure of his intent.

Their relationship had begun to evolve again from that moment, and Sara had found herself welcoming it, if not encouraging it in her own shy, subtle way. She wore the perfume enthusiastically, marveling in the way Jaal’s focus would zero-in on her when he was near enough to presumably pick up the scent, a faint smile lingering on his face to suggest that he clearly _knew_. Even when she didn’t wear the perfume (there was no sense in wasting it for a mission), his eyes would dance over hers when they spoke now, an emerged tenderness that was different from his confident, if not friendly, gaze before. There were other mannerisms too: Jaal would speak a little bit closer to her—closer even than his natural tendencies already made him—shifting his body so that he mingled in her space with a new softness, rather than mistrust and intimidation. His hands sometimes innocently found their way onto her shoulder or against her upper arm. Despite his angara nature, he had never actually _touched_ her until this point in their general interactions, and on a very rare occasion or two Sara would sometimes find his hand on her back. She hadn’t really _felt_ him back then; she would have remembered feeling any traces of his current or cues of his intent through his energy, so he had clearly kept himself restrained. Sara wouldn’t feel him till later, not until Jaal ultimately had the confidence to ask her to help his family trapped by the Roekaar. Their flirtations had only intensified from there.

Now here they were, traveling the entire spectrum of friendship to romance and attraction, finding themselves in her bed so that Jaal could chase off her nightmares. Sara had never really anticipated that he’d been battling those kind of confusing feelings that early after leaving her quarters that fateful night. Though, admittedly that had probably been around the same time that she’d started to feel more than just mildly attracted to him too, equally confused and fascinated despite the fact that inter-species relationships were not quite as unheard of where she had come from. For an angara, Sara couldn’t even begin to imagine how strange that would have been.

“I wanted to know you. To see if I could… figure out what I was feeling, and what it meant.” Jaal’s voice was heavy with awe and emotion, eyes glassy as if he was being hit by something profound. Looking back in this way, to trace exactly how they came to be in this moment together, was as deeply moving for her as it obviously was for him. Sara wanted to reach out and touch him, to just trace her palm against his face, but she didn’t want to break their connection. She didn’t want to shift or move to free her other hand, afraid that it would somehow disturb and shatter the vision she was faced with to a million pieces.

Jaal moved first, eventually bringing her hand to his lips where he could place a soft kiss against her skin, mouth tracing a line down the back of her palm to her wrist. His breath was so soft and warm with each delicate, deliberately placed affirmation of his affection, and Sara could not help but swoon at its sweetness.

Eventually, their soft laughter while they reminisced, gave way to sleepy yawns and quiet murmurs as they both succumbed to their weariness. Neither of them would remember SAM silently turning down the lights, leaving the FTL light trails to guide their slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to start straying from the actual game quite a bit at this point. There will still be some of the main story beats, but there's going to be a whole hell of a lot of head canon happening too. I've also not actually touched the game in some time, and don't really have the motivation to honestly, so actual story beats are a mixture of memory and watching Youtube clips for the things I DO want to keep accurate.


	14. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara reunites with her brother Scott, and he makes a surprising declaration.

Sara paused outside the entrance to _Hyperion Medbay A_ , right before the motion sensor that would open the doors into the first room many humans saw in Andromeda. A journey of light years between here and Elaaden, led to this moment that felt like it was long overdue. Sara was simultaneously dreading what waited for her on the other side of those doors, and exhilarated to finally see Scott after what felt like so long; too long, but now the moment had finally come. Scott was awake, and an entirely new galaxy that he had risked everything to see was waiting for him, good, _and bad_. 

It was a good thing Sara hadn’t had any responsibilities to attend to en route to the Nexus, save for firing off a few routine messages to the Initiative administration to update them on what she could. Unsurprisingly, Tann had some choice words for her regarding her decision on Elaaden, but _surprisingly_ Addison had intervened on her behalf, quelling the salarian’s anger with the positive repercussions that it had wrought. The new Initiative outpost on Elaaden, nestled in the shadow of New Tuchanka would not bear its own name, and as a sign of solidarity would simply remain as an extension of the krogan colony. Sara wasn’t particularly in a state of mind to argue her decision anyhow, so she was glad that Addison had largely taken that weight off of her. For now, at least, because there would be new problems soon. She skimmed through the rest of her inbox: Kandros had something to say about Evfra not willing to compromise on something (shocking, to say the least), and some concerns about strange transmissions happening on Eos (Sara packed that away for later, because it was worth revisiting). Kesh reminded her about the need for the turian ark if they had any hope of supporting _all_ the remaining colonists still in cryo. _Shit_ , that was something that was still important. Sara reasoned, she could use the time on the Nexus to talk to Vetra and Sidera about their concerns and formulate a strategy, but until they arrived it would have to wait. 

Until Sara finally saw Scott, that would all have to wait, because she needed the time to meticulously plan out what she was going to say to him when she finally saw him face-to-face. 

Waking up next to Jaal had been a decent enough distraction for the morning, as sometime during the night he’d rolled forward closer to her onto his stomach in his sleep. At first Sara woke with a start, concerned that the overall flatness of his face posed a problem with the way he had ended up smashed into the pillows. She considered jostling him awake, and it would have been easy. He’d entered into her space close enough that she could now fling her arm all the way around him, his body heat almost tangible in the faint aura of energy underneath the blankets with him this close. If not for his snoring, loud and guttural and somehow very _angara_ , she could have easily feared the pillows were preventing him from breathing. But, having not shared a bed with someone for probably some time, he woke almost immediately as soon as Sara began to shift in an effort to figure out the best way to rouse him. 

As soon as his eyes had opened when his face shifted, pupils narrowing with the onslaught of new light as he blinked at her, it hadn’t taken him long to process where he was before his smile broke. It was small and tender as he offered her a soft hello, before tugging her closer so that they could share sleepy, languid kisses beneath the comforting caress of sheets. Sara realized, this was a routine she could very much get used to, and she would have loved to just stay there in bed with him and his warmth and never move. She had thought that her bed was spacious, but with the bulk of an angara now in it with her it was almost impressive how small and inadequate it seemed. To say that Jaal took up a lot of space was an understatement, as the small bit of distance they’d left between one another the night before now seemed paltry and unnecessary. Jaal’s arm had snuck over her waist during the night, and considering how small of an action would have been required for him to simply roll over onto her, it was an almost pointless, but polite gesture nonetheless. 

She was lost in the comfort of having him next to her and so close, until the realization of where they were going and _why_ had slithered its way back into her thoughts. There was no hope in remaining relaxed now, so Sara had reluctantly unraveled herself out from under Jaal’s arm and jumped out of bed.

SAM had alerted everyone on the Tempest to leave her alone, save for the off-chance that the ship was about to explode, so Sara used the opportunity to take stock of her situation. Patiently, Jaal stayed with her nearly the entire day to let her flush the nerves out of her system as she ran her planned speech by him over and over again. He offered advice and sound direction, keeping her grounded as she walked laps around her room, until eventually he’d reached out and stopped her just as she was passing him for the millionth time.

“It will be fine.”

“It feels like it won’t be…”

“He is your brother, Sara. He will understand. Either now, or later. But he will understand.”

Jaal had only really broken away from her to clean up and take care of his own business throughout the day, but had returned in the evening on habit, just as he had been every night since Havarl. In an effort to distract her, he had offered to try tutoring her in language studies again, but Sara’s anxiety was far too great for the exercise to be productive that night. She’d needed mindless distraction, where she wouldn’t need to focus, so Jaal had agreed to stay with her and watch Milky Way entertainment vids for the rest of the evening. His curiosity and questioning— _”why do quarians wear those suits, and is there a cultural significance to the decorative cloth they integrate into them?” Or “Do all salarians become so visibly uncomfortable when others around them display affection?”_ —was a welcome distraction from the fact that she would be seeing Scott the next day, and bless him he’d probably done that on purpose.

 _“Why are humans and turians so quick to become hostile with each other?”_ had opened up a particularly exhaustive can of worms, to which Sara had to explain the nuanced history of the First Contact War and how turians didn’t quite see it the same way (calling it the “Relay 314 Incident certainly colored it a bit differently from a historical perspective). Sara had finally needed to pause the video to explain to a very captively intrigued Jaal, that neither were really right or wrong, and no, not all human and turian interaction was colored by that shared history. Jaal acceded that it seemed to be the case in practice, as everyone on the ship interacted with Vetra without lingering prejudice, to which Sara reminded him that this was entirely the point of coming to Andromeda in the first place for a lot of people: a fresh start, and to leave all that crap behind.

That night, words weren’t really needed, as they simply went to bed together like it was an ingrained pattern they didn’t question. It was _normal_. And this time there was no distance. Just a comfortable closeness that was natural. They didn’t need to explain themselves or offer apologies for misdirection; just _act_ on their desires for one another with the knowledge and trust that they would communicate indiscretions and go further when the timing was right. 

And that trust was already put to test that night, _profoundly_ , as Sara had not been able to stop herself from touching him, letting her fingers wander over the expanse of his chest. Jaal watched her with rapt attention, like he was spellbound, as her fingers explored all the fascinating valleys and peaks of him. He was _soft_ , which wasn’t entirely surprising given his exhaustive skincare regimen, but each ridge and curve of his structure was smooth, almost undulating like water. Only when the pace of his breath had quickened did he pull her fingers to his lips, kissing slow and deliberately up her palm, up her arm and her shoulder, until he was tugging her against him to crash his lips against hers with a severity that was near desperation. Clearly, she had set something ablaze, and they had remained locked in that tender struggle for what felt like hours until Sara knew it was only a matter of seconds before Jaal would shift her underneath him. And it wouldn’t take much more than a quick action, him moving ever-so-slightly to cover her body with his bulk, and there probably would have been no stopping them.

So Sara had pulled away first, keenly aware of their legs entwined and the way his feet were clutching the sheets as if hanging on for dear life. It was endearing in a way, the endless black of his eyes and the blue stain on his cheeks and his throat as his gaze wandered over her anxiously before she finally spoke. “Jaal…” her voice was soft in its breathless warning, and his eyes closed gently in understanding as he took in a shaky breath. “I don’t want you to leave… but we should stop.”

“Yes,” he had said, his voice nearly a hoarse whisper as he readily let her pull away. “I will need a moment, but yes, I will stay.” Already his eyes were shifting again, the blue ring around the black cresting like a Havarl sunrise as his brightened gaze rested on hers. Then, Sara smiled.

“You are a paragon of self-control,” she mused, sticking her tongue out at him slightly, which coaxed a light chuckle from him that was airy, as his breathing slowed.

“I fear it was you with the better sense tonight.” His gaze drifted then, and he turned shy. Sara knew why. She had started to _feel_ him against her, a warmth and growing hardness that throbbed in his rising excitement while they became tangled in the bedsheets. Sara wasn’t a blushing virgin by any means but it was somehow terrifying in its newness, and that _thrilled_ her, pushing her body and mind to keep surging onward because she had wanted to feel every inch of him and more. Sense and reason had finally snapped back into place and won over, cutting that strain of thought in its tracks against every instinct she had. She knew, that Jaal would have wanted to stop, and that meant she wanted to stop. Somehow this made her love him more. Sara chanced then, letting her palm rest against his cheek, tracing the line of his scar with her thumb as his eyes slipped closed in bliss. His mouth curved then, a smile of pleasure at her touch. 

“It’s alright.” Sara said, pulling her hand away to tuck it underneath the pillow. “It just matters that you’re still here with me now.”

They had watched each other for a long while after that, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the evening’s activities and where it had taken them before Jaal was eventually comfortable enough to let her curl into him again. That was where she had fallen asleep, her head tucked against his chest where she could listen to his heartbeat as she drifted away.

And in the morning again, everything was normal. Jaal imparted his love, kissing her with the weight of his devotion behind him, and saw her off with every ounce of his encouragement when she finally left the Tempest. He gave her the strength and the determination she’d needed to set foot onto the steel-plated flooring of the Nexus, making her way to the tram that would take her to the human ark where her brother waited.

Finally now, standing shy of the door to the Hyperion medbay just outside _Cryo-A_ , it felt like Sara hadn’t practiced a thing. She had tried to anticipate all of Scott’s possible responses, running through a variety of potential scenarios depending on his mood: snark or sarcasm, if he was particularly defensive in the moment, or hostility, maybe if there were some sort of after-effects of the cryosleep still working their way out of his system. There was of course the possibility that he would be completely understanding, look hard into Sara’s eyes, and tell her everything was fine.

This was Scott, her brother, and he had just found out their father had died on an alien planet and everything they had planned for had gone to hell. To top off the shit sundae his sister had lied about it during the few miraculous moments she was able to talk to him during his coma. In truth there was no preparation adequate enough. Sara gathered her strength and stepped forward, triggering the door.

Immediately Sara saw Harry talking with another haggard, exhausted looking human who had clearly just been thawed. She recognized the slumped posture, almost dazed, unfocused look as they held their head in their hands, because it mirrored about how she had felt when she first woke. The large vid screen on the far wall was still projecting long-scope images of all the various “habitats” they had monitored from far away: slightly pixelated, grainy and not quite in full-color scaled out images of the planetary environments like a birds-eye view. They were one of the first things a human would see after waking up: an announcement of all the opportunity just waiting for them out there in Andromeda’s boundless space. In reality, they weren’t even fully representative of what they’d actually found; the ultimate bait-and-switch. Apparently it wasn’t on the top of anyone’s list to actually replace those images with clear, updated photos, but it didn’t particularly matter anyway because they weren’t exactly the empty, fully inhabitable oases they had been made out to be in the first place. Sara remembered sitting at the edge of one of the beds against that far wall, leaned over her knees in reflection as she stared at the cycle of flickering images, wondering then, if it was too good to be true.

The long, rectangular room lined with hospital beds and monitoring equipment hanging from the ceiling, hadn’t really changed much from the last time Sara was there. It was sparsely populated with humans in various states of de-thaw, their white, cryo clothing blending in to the overall drab, paleness of the room, which was only offset by the touches of Initiative blue and gray that was splashed randomly in various places. Human doctors in white coats and gray Initiative uniforms milled about doing their work, scanning and consoling the shocked, scared people who were waking up in completely strange lands, their minds and bodies processing a multitude of chemicals and emotions too fast for them to catch up. Sara’s out-of-place, mis-colored entrance must have caught Harry’s attention, as she stood out like a sore thumb wearing comparatively loud, colorful clothing amidst the swarm of white and gray. He quickly glanced her way, motioning with a tilt of his head over his shoulder. Following the gesture to the opposite end of the room, her eyes immediately fell on Scott, and all at once Sara’s body was at-odds with itself. The impulse to run to him and sweep him up in a hug was directly contradicted by the fear of his detachment, and that kept her legs from moving. 

He looked thinner than she remembered, maybe paler too, but he was _alive_ , and it was almost surreal to the extent that Sara feared she would wake up any moment and be back on Eos as if the past year hadn’t even happened. For a moment Sara almost thought she was looking at a ghost: a frailer, sicker Alec Ryder that shouldn’t even exist, and it made a pang of sadness unfurl in her gut to see her brother this… _helpless_ , and even more of a reminder of everything they’d lost...

Scott clearly hadn’t noticed her entrance like Dr. Carlyle had, as he was still staring at a data pad held in his hand, reclined back on his hospital bed against a pile of pillows with a frown that was slight. His brow was tense, but that might have been from concentration rather than any particular mood, as she suspected he was processing a lot of new information all at once. 

Or, maybe he had noticed and was making his mood clear. There was only one way to find out.

“Scott.” Her voice rang out in the shiny, sterile white room as she approached her brother. It sounded weak, and small to her own ears, leagues away from what she had practiced back on the Tempest, but it had been enough to catch his attention. Scott turned his head once he heard his name, made eye contact with her, and a maelstrom of emotions passed over his face that ran the entire spectrum of possibilities Sara had tried to prepare for: relief, joy, happiness, pain, betrayal… then anger.

“You lied to me.” Gods it felt like she hadn’t heard his voice in centuries, as a sudden burst of shocked joy rippled through Sara’s extremities once he spoke. She technically hadn’t heard him for over 600 years, and his first, _real_ words to her were such a blunt blow to the proverbial gut, that Sara stopped in her tracks just paces from his hospital bed. His voice was clear, stronger than she would have thought based on his exhausted appearance… but, that was a good sign, wasn’t it?

“...Oh Scott…” Sara didn't know if it was pity in her voice, or empathy. It might have been both, maybe the former unjustified, but he looked _so_ sad and pathetic, and for a moment Sara just wanted him to understand why she’d done it. At least that would help with the pain in her own heart.

Cautiously, Sara approached, feeling very much like a mouse staring down the jaws of a lion, but Scott didn’t snap. He wouldn’t—they hadn’t really screamed at each other since being teenagers—but that didn’t stop her from feeling so cornered as he held eye-contact: defiant and hurt. 

Scott’s eyes followed her sharply as she took a seat on the edge of the vacant bed across from him, so close, yet feeling further away from him than she’d ever felt. He looked exhausted, despite having been technically asleep for so long, but medically induced stasis probably wasn’t entirely agreeable to an organic built to stay in one galaxy and sleep for eight hours a day. The hollows of his cheeks were more pronounced, an almost sickly pallor to his skin offset by the darkness under his eyes as if he was malnourished, but his body had only just started processing normal, real food a few days before. His entire system was probably doing a lot, the emotional toll of everything he’d been absorbing since waking not making the process any easier.

“I didn’t have a choice.” Suddenly, it was like everything she’d practiced and carefully crafted together had been thrown out the window. It felt like the most insensitive thing she could have possibly said, which is why Scott’s immediate response wasn’t entirely surprising as he grimaced. “Harry told me not to over-stimulate you… it could have _killed_ you in that coma for all I knew.” 

“Are you _kidding_ me?!” Clearly, her brother’s ability to carry his voice hadn’t been weakened by his predicament, as his sudden interjection carried across the entire medbay. The room suddenly got very quiet, the beeps and chimes of Milky Way medical equipment stifling in the lack of human voices, and Sara became very aware of the multitude of eyes on them.

Scott was tense, as he swung forward to sit off the edge of his own bed facing her, a burst of energy that seemingly came out of nowhere. He was gripping the bed sheets beneath white-knuckled fists, clearly trying to pass himself off as being in completely good health despite the fact that he clearly was not. The slight wobble to his body as he held himself upright was evidence enough, the tension in his stubbled jaw visible beneath gritted teeth.

“Do you think I’d joke about that?” Sara hissed. “And keep your voice down, unless you want all of the Hyperion to hear you.” She didn’t need Tann or Addison coming down on her about “making a scene” on top of all this, and they were getting dangerously close to giving the newly awakened humans an excuse to go right back into cryo. Not to mention the _optics_ of having the human Pathfinder engaged in a sibling argument that could have been construed as petty and unconstructive with so much else at stake…

“Now you’re going to tell me what to do, like you know what’s best for me?” _Gods_ , that was so like him, to sound like such a whiny, uncooperative brat who wasn’t getting their way, when she just wanted him to _listen_. She would have started shaking some sense into him if she didn’t fear it would break his neck in the process.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Scott—I was _THERE_ when he died! _I_ was there when he took off his helmet in air we couldn’t breath, so that he could give it to me!” At some point Sara stood up, not even realizing it had happened until she was already talking. So much for the _optics_. “It was either him or _me_. He made his choice, and I’ve lived with that guilt every minute of every day, and you weren’t there.” Her tone dropped to one of quiet resignation, and it came flooding out of her as if she’d just dislodged a rather stubborn rock that was stoppering the river of her temperament. He was going to hear this whether he wanted to or not. “I _needed_ you, Scott, and you weren’t there.”

A blanket of silence fell over them as Scott appeared to process what she said, his brow furrowing tightly in distress as his eyes went wide. It was about the one expression Scott could achieve that made him look like their mother, like _her_ , and now she just wanted to throw her arms around him. Sara needed him to understand, not for any sense of superiority or to put her own conscience as ease, but to just know why she’d decided to hold back the truth about their father’s death. Surely he’d heard the news, seen some preliminary reports about _how_ the human Pathfinder had died, but Sara had experienced it first hand…

All at once a veil of discomfort and regret passed over her brother’s face as he frowned, his dark gaze wandering her own sternly focused expression as if looking for an entry to the barriers Sara had thrown up just as quickly as she’d jumped from her seat.

“Fuck, sis…” Scott’s expression dropped, guilt and shame laced together in the shadows that passed over his eyes as his frown deepened. “I…” It somehow made him look more gaunt, and above all else Sara hated to see him this way. This was not the brother she knew, his exuberance and spark taken from him by the Initiative as if Jien Garson herself had somehow caused the collision that would damage Scott’s cryopod.

“Just… stop.” Sara wanted, more than anything, for her brother back, as she held her hands up in a feigned act of control. Throwing her gaze around the brightly lit, almost washed out room, thankfully people had resumed their own business, perhaps just trying to look busy and like they weren’t paying attention.

The pair avoided eye contact for a spell, neither thinking of the right thing to say to cut through the discontent that had billowed up between them, not particularly willing to even acknowledge it in its perceived foolishness. At the same moment Sara thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, surprisingly Scott spoke first.

“Come _here_.” He motioned her towards him to take a seat, arms open in a clear plea for an embrace that had been long overdue. Sara did not have to be asked twice, as she sunk into the mattress next to him and fell into her brother naturally. His grip felt weak, a slight tremor in his arms where they wrapped around her as if he didn’t quite have the strength to hold her, but she pushed that out of her mind to focus on Scott’s breathing; his _heartbeat_ against her ear as she tried hard not to squeeze him too tightly. He smelled like a hospital, sterile and just _a little to clean_ , but she didn’t care, because he was really here.

“I’m… sorry I wasn’t there for you…” he finally murmured with a sniff, and Sara thought she detected a hint of tightening in his throat, though she couldn’t see his face to know if he was crying. Scott really didn’t cry, having learned that unhealthy habit of avoidance from Alec growing up. Andromeda was probably as good a place as any to break those habits...

“You always did like to sleep in...” Sara chanced a joke, quietly as her head rested underneath his chin where she could feel the coarse stubble of his facial growth scratching at her scalp. Thankfully it seemed to land well, as she could feel Scott smile a little, and Sara was _so_ sick of tears...

“What can I say? I like to make an entrance.”

“Maybe do so next time without some kind of medical emergency.”

Scott chuckled, though it was short-lived as he finally stilled. “...We made it Sara…”

“Yeah…” she murmured, staring forward. “I wish mom was here.” Sara wasn’t sure if she _actually_ felt that way, but it felt right to say it, knowing that despite everything Ellen Ryder would have loved the chance to study Eezo in another corner of the universe. Scott didn’t respond, which wasn’t entirely unexpected, because he hadn’t really talked about their mother since her death. Neither of them had really talked about it, because they didn’t really know how. But with their father gone now, they truly were… orphans. 

“So I guess it’s just us, then.” Finally Scott pulled away, holding Sara at a distance as if he was only just now getting a good look at her. “You look like shit.”

“I missed you too.” Sara spat with an air of mock defiance, knowing that she probably looked a haggard mess anyway despite the fact that Scott wasn’t even sincere. She’d been so stressed out with the prospect of finally seeing him to really care about what she looked like. It hadn’t escaped her though that looking in the mirror for the past year had been a massive exercise of self-acceptance; she looked _tired_ , and the slightly blue cast under her eyes complete with a few fresh lines to coordinate definitely hadn’t been there before she went in for the long sleep. “I’ve been shot at more times than I can count, died a few times, and the food here is _terrible_.” 

“Please tell me there’s at least coffee,” Scott looked pained, like it would be the biggest betrayal in the world were it not the case and he slumped a little. “And beer.”

“Oh, there’s at least one bar here, but whatever they serve here is homegrown. I even helped them get some interesting native ingredients.” Sara remembered one of her very first tasks being to help the Vortex’s brewmaster develop some new means by which the Initiative denizens could forget about the fact that they had jumped galaxies into a war-torn hellscape. It had been easy enough, as the items in question had been plentiful and easy to access at her various stops. Liam had actually brought his own stash of Milky Way beer which miraculously had made it the entire journey in relatively palatable condition, but that was Liam’s secret to tell so she didn’t mention it. “So you’re in luck. There’s plenty of new ways to get yourself intoxicated.”

“I can’t wait to take the Andromeda wine tour…” Scott deadpanned. “I hear Eos might have the right climate in like 100 years.”

“I’m going to assume that Harry hasn’t included ‘get black-out drunk’ as part of your recovery.” Sara said pointedly, wrinkling her nose. “Though shaving off that scraggly mess on your face might be a good place to start.” She reached out with a gesture as if to pull at the stubble on her brother’s face, sticking her tongue out ruefully. Scott had the foresight to bat her hand away before she made contact. 

“Hey! This took me 600 years to grow! I’m trying for the magnificent wizard look!” Scott mimed the approximate length and width of what he expected such a beard to look like, drawing his hand down the length of his body before pausing amidst his amusement at his own joke. “Wait, back up a minute—You _died?_ ” He had stilled, hand dropping to his lap in a loosely closed fist as his eyes widened again. 

Sara folded her arms, realizing she probably should have led with some sort of clarification to that point. “That’s a long story… SAM can fill you in since the first time was his fault.”

“Due to her physical distress from Habitat 7, my integration with Sara as Pathfinder initially over-stimulated her cardiovascular system. She was clinically dead for a short period of time.”

“...Thanks, SAM?” Scott looked around as if he would find a source for the voice; Sara had done the same thing after first waking up so she was ready for it, her face a neutral calm when her brother looked back at her. He pursed his lips at her, trying to communicate a sense of incredulity at the AI’s quick, timely interjection and the simple absurdity behind it, but all Sara could do was shrug.

“SAM is everywhere. You’ll get used to it eventually.”

“Right.” Scott said derisively, though Sara knew he wasn’t particularly thrilled with the prospect. He’d been wary about their father’s clandestine AI development from the start, and he knew what to expect once they got on the other side, but perhaps hadn’t been prepared for the reality of having the AI around to interject at any time. “What’s going on with your neck?”

 _Shit._ Sara’s hand flew to her neck to cover the blotchy, Jaal-marks she’d completely forgotten about. She hadn’t even given them a second thought in her panic to get back to the Nexus and deal with this situation, and they were still obvious enough to catch someone’s eye since they stood out so much from the even paleness of her neck. “...Allergies.” Sara lied. She wanted to tell Scott about Jaal, was practically bursting to do it, but she didn’t know how much newness he could take all at once. It had to be the right time. She probably should also talk to Lexi about it because the doctor probably had some sort of cream for it...

“Uh huh.” Sara was convinced Scott didn’t believe her, but blessedly he didn’t really press the issue too far. “Seems like I have a lot to catch up on...” His tone suggested that he knew she was lying. It was an incredibly weak attempt at deflection, since there was no way anyone would mistake alien hickeys for an allergic reaction, and judging by the look he was giving her he wasn’t buying it. Sara chose to change the subject, not wanting to invite that dialogue just yet.

“How much _do_ you know?”

“Well, I’ve been pouring through all the Initiative news broadcasts and my login still has access to the Pathfinder database. Glad you guys didn’t revoke my clearance assuming I was as good as dead…” Scott picked up the datapad he had set down during their initially heated engagement, more or less confirming what Sara already knew, in that he’d been spending his time absorbing all the reports and assessments that he could.

“I would have never let them do that.” Sara frowned, folding her hands on her lap. 

“I guess I’m… more or less caught up. Congratulations on your… promotion…” Scott’s eyes drifted, and he frowned at the darkness of his own humor. “Sucks about Habitat 7… and I guess _all_ of them. I mean, shit— the kett, and the _angara_ …how did we not see them?”

“I guess a lot can happen in the lag time between the imaging of a galaxy that far away, Geth advancements or not.” Sara paused, unsure of her own answer. The Initiative had been pretty damn thorough. It would have been incredibly hard to miss an entire civilization living on multiple colony worlds. The kett were more easily explained, having only been in the cluster for decades, so their arrival during the 600 year journey was plausible. The Remnant were a vastly more complicated scenario, though everything SAM had been able to ascertain based on readings of their leftovers was that they too had been more recent… but then why did the angara seem to not fully understand who or what they had been, despite living amongst their remains? How could they have collectively just _forgotten_? It just didn’t add up, but it was far beyond her capabilities to answer. “It’s… kind of a confusing mess. We’ve got a lot to talk about. But—I’m sorry I lied. About dad…” It felt good to get that out, the actual apology, and Scott’s expression warmed. It was the Scott she remembered hugging for minutes, unwilling to let go as they said their goodbyes on the Hyperion before going to sleep in the Milky Way one last time... 

“It’s OK.” Scott’s response was fast, almost too fast, and Sara wondered if he’d really processed their father’s death yet. He was actually taking it....better than she’d anticipated, but depending on when he’d actually found out it was possible he’d already grieved. “Sarah, it’s okay. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. You saw dad die, and I was already in a coma. You had to make a hard choice, alone. If it was me? I’d probably have done the same.” He leaned forward on his knees, hand running across his face absently as a distraction to what may have been going through his mind: guilt, anger, sadness that he’d never quite get the fatherly approval he had been struggling to obtain for so long, and he never would…

“Are you okay?” Sara chanced, sensing that Scott was going to internalize some things that probably weren’t entirely healthy. This whole situation was _so_ screwed up: a broken, fractured family picking everything up and fleeing to a new galaxy only to literally disintegrate at the seams with no chance at redemption or closure. Sara had made peace with her emotional blockage concerning their father’s death ages ago, but she wasn’t sure if Scott was capable of that after everything he had been through. 

Scott inhaled, the sound healthy and strong, and that was _good_. “That’s a great question. I’ll… need some time. To figure that out. I’ll get back to you when I reach a conclusion.” The answer was surprising in its resignation, but he actually sounded… calm enough to joke about it.

“I want you to talk to me.” Sara said quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder with a breath. “When you’re ready. Having someone to talk to about it helps, so don’t keep it to yourself.” She thought about Jaal, and how much he had helped her already by just _listening_ , and it made her warm up from the insides. She wanted Scott to have that too, and if it meant being an ear for him, then she would be there in a heartbeat. “I know how much trying to get through to dad meant to you.”

“Sara, I—” Scott sat up, turning to her with a facade of collected calm. “—I made peace with the fact that I would never make him happy a long time ago.” Sara thought, she could see the lie in his eyes he was trying so hard to bury deep down, his disappointment and resentment for so many years of struggle to no avail. “I mean, maybe there was a chance, in this new life, but it sounds like there was too much at stake to really worry about trying. I didn’t come here just to make dad proud of me.” He smiled then, the action slight, but no less warm. “I came here to make sure you stayed out of trouble. I was never going to let you go alone.” _There_ was the Scott she had missed for so long. He put his arm around her, their renewed closeness so natural and instinctive that Sara immediately found comfort in leaning into him with a resolute sigh.

“We have each other. Let’s focus on that.” Scott said, and the finality in his tone indicated that he didn’t really want to speak further about their detached father, at least not now. When Scott was ready, he would talk to her about it, whether she had to pry it out of him or not. Maybe he’d never be ready. Maybe they weren’t capable of mourning their father and that was just the way it had to be. “Cora was here yesterday.”

“Oh?” Sara asked, sitting straighter as she was glad for the chance to focus on something else. This wouldn’t be the last time they’d be forced to cope with their losses together, but for right now it was good not to dwell. “What did she say?” It hadn’t been a secret that Cora had expressed interest in her brother during their initial orientation and training sessions together, so it wasn’t entirely surprising. 

“She wanted to see how I was. Gave me a rundown of the ship…and the people you have with you.” Sara couldn’t glean anything from Scott’s tone that would tell her how much exactly he knew, though Cora had been on the Nexus the entire time her and Jaal had really gotten close. Since the crew liked to wag their tongues it was inevitable that someone had told her about _exactly_ how close they had gotten in her absence. It wasn’t a secret per say, and gods knew everyone had been suspecting something for some time, but Sara really preferred to ease Scott into the knowledge that his sister was intimate with one of the native species of their new home.

“Did she tell you anything really specific?” 

“Not really. Just a general idea of who you’ve been running with. I hear you ended up with an angara.” There it was, though it still sounded like Cora hadn’t really divulged too much detail. Cora wasn’t really the gossiping type, but Scott sure was, and the lilt of his voice gave away the fact that he was curious about something.

“ _Jaal._ ” Sara paused, taking a step back in order not to sound so excited. “His name is Jaal Ama Darav. I’ll have to tell you about how we met, because I almost blundered into a galactic incident with all of the angara after just barely stepping off the ship. There’s the Resistance, and the kett, and the _remnant_ , and shit so much to tell you—”

Scott held up a palm to stop her, smirking. “And I really want to hear about it, _all of it_ , but I want to save those stories for when I’m on board. With everyone. Preferably with lots of alcohol involved.” He paused, his eyes going wide again. “Sara, are you _blushing?_ ”

“No!” If she hadn’t been blushing before, _now_ she’d be turning a furious red because of Scott’s prodding, giving a whole hell of a lot away without intending to. “I’m not blushing. Just— _stop it!_ ” Scott didn’t even have time to continue pressing it out of her, before Sara caught on to what he said. “What do you mean _when you’re on board?_ Has Harry actually cleared you for discharge?” That was entirely doubtful, as she couldn’t tell if Scott could even walk on his own yet, but that was short lived when he spoke next.

“I mean exactly what I said. I’m coming with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonder what he's going to think of Jaal.................


	15. To a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexi finally asks the inevitable, and Sara takes a moment to get a good grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and just spent some time in these chapters. I don't always respond to everyone, but just know that appreciate every bit of it.
> 
> This is a little bit of filler, but I tried to add at least a *little* cheesecake in there for everyone to enjoy. :O I'm also terrible at summaries and chapter titles in case people didn't notice.

Hours later Scott’s condition finally got the best of him, as his eyes began to droop and posture slump over with fatigue. It would take some time for Scott’s body to _reset_ , as Harry had described it, though that didn’t mean Scott was against complaining. Complain he did— _”I’ve slept plenty already!”_ —like he was keenly aware of all the work cut out for him over the next week and was resisting it already. But, if he was going to prove that he was capable of leaving the shelter of the Hyperion to join the Pathfinder team like he’d been meant to, he’d need all the rest he could get.

The conversation with Harry had started off tense. The doctor, adamantly refused, of course, to clear Scott to leave his care and this lit a fire underneath her brother that could have powered the Nexus for weeks. First, Scott outright threatened to walk out the door, and truthfully, Harry couldn’t keep him in the medbay against his will so that had smoothed the doctor over into a state of compromise. If Scott’s vitals remained stable, and he could reach his physical therapy goals by the end of the week and prove that he could maintain his recovery on his own, Harry would clear him.

When Scott initially announced that he was coming with her, Sara had looked at him stupefied like he had just dropped a major bomb on top of her. That was sort of the case, as she hadn’t been prepared to face the reality of her brother now being in harm's way any time soon. On the Hyperion he was _safe_. The Nexus had so far stayed hidden from any of the kett or Roekaar scans, so it was like a sheltered corner she could keep him in and out of the line of fire. The Tempest itself wasn’t necessarily dangerous, but what they were flying into was unpredictable. On the other hand, it was hypocritical of her to throw herself into the fray while attempting to smother her _very adult_ twin brother who had every right to decide for himself what he wanted to do: join her on the Tempest and be part of the team.

Scott never liked to sit still, and Sara knew that he would never tolerate staying idle on the Hyperion while watching her fling herself headfirst into unprecedented danger (and he would probably say, excitement). Talking him out of it with her own clear objections just based on his physical state and recovery, which she had initially tried, was pointless. The conviction in her brother’s insistence made her relent, so she turned to Harry and agreed that if Lexi had the means to continue his recovery on the Tempest and approved, then he could come. 

More selfishly, Sara was comforted by the idea that she wouldn’t be separated from Scott any longer. If something happened to either of them, they would be within reach, and she could live with that. Besides, this would be the easiest way to keep an eye on him, for _his sake_ , because he was bound to get into trouble eventually. Gods only knew what he was going to get up to with the rest of the crew, and that also meant she needed to figure out _how_ she was going to introduce him to Jaal. She knew Jaal wouldn’t be the problem, as she suspected he’d just be happy to meet her one surviving family member. _Scott_ however, had a history of not liking all the previous men in her life, despite all of her full-bodied objections and indignation to this invasiveness, but he didn’t really care. In the absence of parents who had the experience and cared enough to steer them in the right direction, Scott had taken it upon himself to become a protective force that all of her partners had to endure; had to _prove_ themselves to, and inevitably they all failed in the end. That wasn’t what had ended her relationships by any means, but perhaps, Scott’s judgment had been the warning bell. Instead of heeding the signs, she’d chosen to be defiant in the face of her brother’s meddling. Gods, what if Scott _hated_ Jaal— no that was impossible. There was literally no way anyone could hate the man, full of equal parts muscle and strength as he was brains and affection, and seemingly a galaxy’s worth of devotion to her. Scott was going to see that, he _had_ to. 

The reality was, Sara had done the same to Scott, making his significant others jump through a cavalcade of hoops and trials unawares, to simply be deemed worthy of her brother’s time and affection. She had generally been more subtle about it, so the people in question had just never been aware of their failure at all. 

So, Sara had time to think about the best way to get them to meet: Jaal would probably be shy, despite his interest and desire in meeting Scott. He would want to make a good first impression, so she thought that putting him in familiar territory would be the best place to start: The Tempest, her quarters perhaps, where they could have dinner together and get acquainted and it would be good. When Scott was in slightly better health and moving around was probably going to be the time to shoot for. In the interim, the Tempest would remain docked at the Nexus for the next week, while she got filled in on what Cora and the other Pathfinders had been working on.

Right now though, Sara needed to talk to Lexi, and it was a conversation she’d rather have in person. On her way back to the Tempest she fired off a quick message to Jaal to let him know she was done with Scott and headed back to the docking bay. He’d been giving her space during the day, citing her need for privacy, but that he would be there if she wanted to talk later. She wanted to see him, but as Jaal didn’t immediately respond he was probably busy elsewhere and she’d just have to talk to him when he returned. He’d said he was going to go to the Cultural Center, probably to do some more of his clandestine “research,” Sara mused. In light of how their previous evening had gone, he was probably a bit more motivated than usual to… absorb information, and Sara’s cheeks could have burned at just the thought. It was such a tempting thought to try and pry it all out of him later... 

As expected, Lexi was in the medbay, currently distracted by something on her computer read-out, so it wasn’t surprising when the asari didn’t immediately react to Sara’s entrance. The doors alone would have normally been loud enough to get anyone’s attention, but Sara found herself standing just past the doorway for a beat, before finally clearing her throat.

“Lexi, do you have a minute?” Sara called into the room, instinctively looking for a surface around her to knock on in order to get the asari’s attention (that seemed to be a weird, human trait, Sara had come to understand long ago), but found nothing adequate enough where she wouldn’t come out looking foolish. 

“Of course,” Lexi turned, smile warm with all things considered, and Sara fidgeted with her hands in front of her for a moment before finally responding. The most important thing on Sara’s mind had to happen before anything else. 

“First, I wanted to apologize for how I acted the other night. I wasn’t in a good place.” Lexi hadn’t deserved her wrath a few nights before, but judging by the doctor’s expression it hadn’t really been taken as such.

“I understand that, Sara. Your mental health is just one of my concerns, so I could already see the signs.” Lexi said matter-of-factly, her voice characteristically confident and even. “You were under a lot of stress, especially that evening.” Sara couldn’t recall any time that Lexi had ever raised her voice or changed her tone to something besides the smooth, professional poise that somehow still managed to be dripping with empathy. There were maybe...flashes of memory when Sara had been in and out of consciousness and near death, but she would never know if those impressions of Lexi barking orders were real, or the imaginings of a dying brain. 

“Well, it was still crappy of me, so I’m sorry.” The downside, was that sometimes that empathy just felt fake and unwanted if one was in a certain state, and when Sara had snapped at her in the hallway two nights before it had been one of those times. Lexi hadn’t meant it that way, but she hadn’t been in an emotional state that was very forgiving.

“That’s quite alright.” Lexi paused, glancing back at her computer terminal before swinging around in her chair to face Sara fully. “Come in. I suspect you want to talk about Scott.”

“Did Harry already contact you?” Sara stepped further into the room so that the door release could trigger, closing it behind her as she took a seat on the berth directly across from where Lexi was sitting, hands folded gracefully on her lap. “I tried to talk Scott out of it, but he’s relentless.”

“I assumed as much.” Lexi might have actually been cracking wise about _her_ , insinuating that the Ryder twins were a handful—who was she kidding? That was probably true. Lexi probably assumed a whole hell of a lot about Scott just based on their own interactions, not to mention having access to their personnel files that housed a wealth of information about their personal histories. “I’m glad that Scott is alright. Truthfully, if the medical charts I’m reading are all correct, and barring any unforeseen complications, I should be able to provide all the additional care that he’ll need right here on the Tempest.”

“You just made Scott a very happy guy.” Sara exhaled, feeling a weight lifted off her. Lexi was really the last wall that he would need to scale to get what he wanted, and that was _not_ a conversation Sara wanted to have with her brother had their doctor denied him. 

“If he agrees to continuing his physical therapy here on the ship, then I see no reason to keep him cloistered on the Hyperion.” Lexi added emphatically, as if they weren’t quite out of the woods yet. “That _is_ assuming that he continues to show improvement throughout the week and Harry clears him.”

“I doubt that will be a problem,” Sara said thoughtfully, then she frowned. She wouldn’t have the time to worry about Scott maintaining his own physical recovery, but that would be something she’d need to impress upon him, _heavily_. Knowing him however, he wouldn’t sit down and let the opportunity slip past him if it was the difference between freedom and solitude on a stationary colony ship. “I’ll talk to him about it.” Sara was about to stand to leave, but Lexi raised a hand to stop her.

“Before you go, I wondered if I could have a word?” Lexi’s expression didn’t impart anything specific but Sara had a gut feeling. “You are in no way obligated to discuss anything with me, but if you were open to sharing your experiences with Jaal, it would be incredibly valuable to document.” The asari didn’t miss a beat, not even a hint of a flush or discomfort on her sky-blue skin, despite the reality of what she was actually asking of Sara: _share with me your sex stories with your alien boyfriend._ “The results of possibly one of the first intimate interactions between your species’, considering the gaps in evolution and galaxies, would be profoundly educational.”

 _The results_ , Sara snickered internally. “I kind of had a feeling you’d ask me that eventually.” Sara was only surprised it had taken this long. Lexi had a habit of reminding everyone that one of her _many_ specialities was xenobiology, so Sara supposed the asari would have a field day with what may be the first known, amorous encounters between a human and an angara. At least, one anybody thought to document, and in Sara’s position, whether she liked it or not, it was bound to come out and become something _very_ visible to the public eye. “That’s something I should probably ask Jaal about…”

“I don’t want to pressure you,” Lexi said, standing to walk to a shelf compartment some paces away. “It would be immensely useful to study and compare any differences between Milky Way interspecies relations, but I only want you to share with me what you are comfortable with.” Turning back around, she offered Sara a small nondescript tube, and gestured pointedly. “For your neck.” 

Sara didn’t take it immediately, unsure how to react, but knowing exactly what it was before Lexi had even clarified. “I guess it’s obvious to everyone at this point,” she finally blurted. When Lexi didn’t respond in order to invite any sort of fumbling explanation, Sara took the tube from her sheepishly. She knew objectively it really didn’t matter, because frankly it was so _mundane_ ; her and Jaal were _intimate_ , and so far nobody close to either or them really seemed to care other than to be obnoxiously pleased by the whole thing.

“There’s nothing to judge, Sara. It’s perfectly common.” Lexi’s expression warmed to one of kind understanding, which meant that Sara really didn’t have a logical reason to start blushing in that moment; sharing a living space with your doctor tended to foster a familiarity that was probably counter-productive when it came to needing to discuss...personal things with them. At some point, she was probably going to have to.

“Thank you... I’ll talk to Jaal, I guess. I have a feeling he’ll be perfectly fine with it.” Sara thought, angara probably had no qualms about discussing that sort thing with medical professionals, considering they had no shame about discussing it openly with everyone else. “He would probably find it fulfilling to share for the sake of... posterity.” She didn’t particularly think Jaal was going around blabbing about their situation, as that wasn’t really his personality. Though, she doubted he’d been able to resist the impulse to at least give a little bit away to his family. Seeing as Sahuna had made it so obvious that she knew what was going on, it occurred to Sara that they’d never really formally _said_ anything to her.

Lexi actually smiled then. “I won’t use your personal details in my files, unless you both fully consent. It will be strictly academic of course.”

Sara nodded, glancing down at the medi-gel grade cream that had been given to her and took that as her queue to exit the situation as quickly as possible. If she turned any more red Lexi might have started scanning her for any temperature-inducing maladies, and she didn’t really feel like fending that off. Especially not when all she wanted to do was find Jaal and get something to eat. She could worry about actual _work_ tomorrow.

“Thanks Lexi. It’ll be nice to not have to explain away angara hickeys anymore.” Sara was surprised at her own bluntness. Jaal was probably wearing off on her a bit, though that was probably a good thing. “I appreciate it.”

Lexi’s mouth may have moved just slightly in response to her own sarcasm, though it wasn’t enough to tell if the doctor was _actually_ about to laugh. Sara preferred to pretend that she’d finally made Lexi’s professional poise crack, even just a little bit, leaving the room with a satisfied grin on her face as she made her way to the mess hall. Her stomach growled, loud enough that she pressed her hand to her gut as if that would quiet her hunger. She hadn’t eaten all morning, choosing not to fill her stomach with food on the off-chance that she lost it all due to nerves on the way to see Scott.

Stepping through the mess hall doors, Sara nearly ran into Kallo as he was hurrying out. Back to the cockpit no doubt, as the salarian seemed to be averse to leaving the ship.

“Oh—Ryder!” Kallo bleated, startled enough that he nearly dropped the bowl of nondescript food he was holding, large black eyes shiny and wide. As with most salarians, Kallo was lean and tall, though it was generally hard to judge when one usually found him glued to his pilot seat. 

“Kallo,” Sara mimicked, teasingly. He was very kind, and sweet, but _so_ high-strung. Curiously that was what made him such a good _pilot_ , his reaction time lightning fast and attention somehow on everything and everywhere at once as if looking for disaster before it found them. Despite his skill, the salarian always appeared to be in a state of distress as if she’d just caught him red-handed doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “What are you still doing here? Get out and enjoy the time on the Nexus… get some _real_ food…” She wasn’t surprised. Of all the ports they’d been to, Kallo had to practically be dragged off the ship. _Scavengers, or pirates_ he’d cite, and it wasn’t particularly that far-fetched, considering the Tempest was a very modern ship, so that made it a _very_ tempting target.

“I’m fine here—just… calibrating the proton coils...again.” The way he’d ended that sentence implied that Gil had probably done something, as usual, but oddly enough the salarian wasn’t scowling this time. 

“Alright well, I’m not going to stop you if that’s how you want to spend your time.” Sara supposed that being holed up with Jaal and eating food out of the mess, wasn’t exactly the most social, outgoing thing to do either, so she couldn’t really judge Kallo if he preferred to remain on the Tempest. “Thank you for getting us back here so quickly.” 

“Ah—well, it was really the _Tempest_ that got us here so fast, the thrusters completely—” His hand fingered at one of his horns nervously, a fidgety gesture to offset the deflection of the compliment.

“— _Kallo_.”

“Eh… _just take the damn compliment_ , Ryder?”

“Take the damn compliment, Kallo.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kallo _actually_ smiled then, his large black eyes shimmering with the apparent notion that he was absorbing the compliment and not just writing it off, as he was want to do in most cases. The only other time she’d managed to get such a smile out of him was after he’d successfully piloted them through a wall of scourge whilst outrunning the kett, which had left them right onto Aya’s doorstep.

Then the Tempest had caught on fire, which Kallo had blamed himself for until Gil had needed to pull him aside and talk to him about what had gone wrong; it hadn’t been the piloting, but it was far too complicated when they’d both tried to explain it to her that she’d just told them to do whatever needed to be done to get them back off the ground. At the time she hadn’t really relished the idea of sticking around on Aya longer than they’d needed to, the Initiative ship such an obvious abnormality in the angaran port that it had felt like they were vulnerable. That had obviously changed, and while the Tempest was still obviously out-of-place as a foreign ship on Aya, it no longer felt like they were sitting there with the entirety of the Resistance’s target reticules on their heads. 

“You don’t have to call me _ma’am_ ,” Sara called after Kallo’s retreating form as he returned to the cockpit, rolling her eyes at the back of his head, which of course, he didn’t see. The action certainly made her feel better, until her stomach growled and rumbled again, reminding her of the pressing need for food before her insides folded in on itself. She was about to retreat back into the mess and let the door shut behind her, until she saw Jaal enter the hallway from the cargo bay at the opposite end.

Smiling coyly at his brightened expression when he layed eyes on her, she jerked her head in the direction of the mess hall’s interior and went inside. She knew he would follow her anyway, and even though it was only into the damn kitchen she couldn’t deny that she found the _pulling_ effect rather rewarding. He must have hurried in after her at a half-sprint, because Sara barely managed to pull a reconstituted yogurt out of the fridge before the doors whooshed open again. 

“Darling one…” Jaal rumbled as he stepped in, the curious look on his face bright and pleased. He seemed eager, probably anxious to hear whatever she was comfortable sharing about her reunion with Scott. “It is good to see you smiling.” The lilt in his voice was earnest and loving, and it almost made Sara drop her spoon as she gladly let him scoop her into his arms. She was probably giving off some kind of aura of relaxation that signaled it had gone well, and he probably knew she wouldn’t have been flirtatiously beckoning him to follow her had it been a disaster. Of course, the contrast between now and the dour, moody demeanor she’d carried the last few days before they’d arrived probably did a lot on its own.

The effect this had on her was of course obvious, the blush heating her face to new levels as she turned several fascinating shades of pink and red. He was _making_ her smile more with just his words, and he was well aware of the effect he was having on her, as it coaxed a chuckle from his chest that shuddered against her front when he touched his forehead to hers.

“You were right,” Sara managed around her appreciative grin. “Everything is going to be okay.” There was a warm ripple of energy that traveled over her like a wave: a mixture of _hello_ and relieved comprehension, as Jaal hummed in acknowledgment.

“He was not angry.” Jaal stated, his hand traveling down to splay against the small of her back. There was innocence behind it, but it didn’t stop Sara’s already burning face from getting even hotter. 

“He _was_ , at first,” she finally managed a shrug, leaning away from him slightly to look him in the eyes. “But.. he got over it pretty quickly, actually. And then we just… talked. It felt good, like there was closure… it was like I had one foot still in the Milky Way that I can finally move across, now that Scott is okay...” Sara looked sideways, unsure how to parse out her next thoughts. “I didn’t mention… us, yet. It wasn’t the right time, though I suspect he knows I’ve been up to something because of these marks on my neck.” Sara smiled impishly, relishing the way Jaal’s eyes widened as he processed her meaning, a slight flicker of a smile across his lips before it vanished. Then, he frowned, palming the side of her neck gently as a shadow of concern eclipsed the blue vibrancy of his eyes, and Sara leaned into him reflexively.

“You are sure it does not hurt?”

“Jaal, it’s fine. Lexi gave me a cream anyway, so they’ll be gone in a day or two.” Sara jumped, remembering. “Speaking of Lexi… she wants us to… ah—” She felt herself beginning to blush again, and unable to understand why. “Share.” His pause indicated that he did not immediately understand what she was getting at, head cocking to the side in a universal gesture of confused curiosity. His hand never left the side of her neck, almost protecting it from the elements, and she suspected there was a deeper meaning behind it than just mere concern about a few blotchy marks on her skin. It had not really escaped her notice that human necks—her neck—were much more fragile looking than angara’s. It was actually one of the first things Jaal had criticized about her when he had barely been a member of the crew for a week: citing it as a noticeable weakness to the enemy, the Roekaar in particular, because they had just encountered the angara extremists for the first time on Havarl. 

Sara had been offended by it at the time, but once she’d had time to cool off it had clearly been sensible advice—strategic even, in that it was obviously a perceived weak spot, and if an ally such as Jaal had already noticed it, then an enemy would have taken notice too. Immediately, she’d ordered Gil to reinforce the collar plates on all of their armor (except for Drack’s, as he practically had no obvious neck to speak of) so it had paid off in the long run. It wasn’t like it was unusual to have such a specific weakness, perceived or not, because one of the first things humans had been trained early on in their galactic coexistence, was to be aware that their hair was going to be a _very_ tempting thing to pull in a fight. Several Roekaar had already tried that tactic here in Andromeda—it seemed that kind of shit was universal—but had been surprised to get a defensive knee to the groin, which thankfully had enough of an effect on their divergent anatomy, similar _enough_ , to make them let go. 

Different galaxy, same problems.

Sara knew Jaal was not viewing such things now as any sort of weakness to exploit, but she suspected he still felt a need to… cradle her neck as if it was impossibly fragile, especially if there was any sort of noticeable injury. She could have told him he didn’t need to, that she was perfectly capable of protecting her own neck, but it was probably something instinctive that she’d have to train out of him and she just didn’t know if she had the need to. She would feel similarly determined to protect any weaknesses he had that could be targeted by Initiative rebels, but now that she thought of it, she didn’t even _know_ what weaknesses angara had, if any at all. It was like they were perfectly designed by evolutionary forces to be invulnerable.

As if realizing what she had meant, Jaal’s expression changed, and his eyes brightened with understanding. “I see. Sharing our experiences would seem to be appropriate, considering there is no precedent for human and angara intimacy—” He looked thoughtful then, perhaps, a little too content with his guard down, and for some reason Sara felt the need to keep him on his toes. Speaking of weaknesses to exploit…

Sara wasn’t sure what gave her the courage finally, but Jaal’s pensive, thoughtful expression encouraged her to emphasis the point in the most boorish manner she could think of. It was shockingly easy to slip her hand down the small of his back, feeling his muscles react to her touch underneath the thin, leathery pads of his armor. Jaal’s expression did not have time to change, as Sara was too quick, letting her palm curve over the gentle swell of his plush backside before finding suitable purchase and _squeezing_.

“Ah!” Jaal said with a start, his eyes flashing as Sara felt a prick of surprised shock where a snap of his current grazed her hands. Immediately his face darkened, an almost dangerously amorous glint in his eyes as the corner of his lips curled. “ _Dearest_ , you are growing bold.” He swept her against him then, and Sara _really_ almost dropped the yogurt and spoon that was still in her other hand as he practically growled against her ear. “I like that.”

“Oh,” Sara felt heat begin to swirl low in her belly, Jaal’s breath hot against the side of her face as he curled over her. Clearly, her instincts had been correct. Jaal’s hands still hovered precariously low on her back, almost like he _wanted_ to touch her but was restraining himself. She tried to angle her body to encourage him, unintentionally finding herself grinding against his front, which earned her another low snarl as he nipped at her ear. That would do. She wouldn’t push him, as the mess hall was probably not the best place to start groping one another, even if they were both in the mood for it. “Well good, because I liked doing that.” She said low against his ear, planting a careful kiss to seal in the affection as she let the words hang between them. “How’s that for an _experience?_ ”

Jaal’s face somehow ended up buried in the crook of her neck, his previously flirtatious demeanor transforming into something more soft and warm as he nuzzled her skin. Large arms wrapped around her middle, holding her tightly as if to never let her go. Again, it somehow felt like Jaal was _everywhere_ , his current wrapped around them like a pleasant bubble of warmth that was hard for Sara to describe. Maybe Jaal was deflecting, or stalling for time, but that didn’t really matter, because it was like he was embracing her with _all_ of him, body and soul. 

Eventually Jaal finally spoke, his voice a soft rumble as his mouth moved against the side of her face. “I will leave certain details out when I speak to Lexi.” She could tell there was a smile on his lips just by the breathy way that he spoke.

“Leave something to the imagination. Besides, how will we explain finding the most inappropriate places to get gropey with each other on the ship?” Jaal’s arms around her loosened then, and he leaned away from her grinning.

“I think your bed last night was a very appropriate place.” He chuckled, the sound of his voice so warm and smooth underneath the rumbling resonance of his words. Sara’s spine tingled as his hands slid up her back to cradle the back of her neck, coaxing her to press a kiss against his mouth that was so chaste _she_ almost whimpered for more. Until her stomach growled.

It was so loud and gurgling that Sara immediately turned bright red, laughing out loud at the stupidity of her hunger ruining such a tender moment. She pulled away, seizing control of herself as her hand flew to her stomach.

“Forgot. I’m hungry.” Sticking her tongue out at him, she waved her spoon in his face. “And _you’re_ distracting.” Jaal only laughed richly at her display of feigned indignance, eyes sparkling.

“As are you,” he said, smoothly, and Sara could have sworn his eyes traveled the length of her before returning to catch her own. “Though I will not make you suffer any longer.” Jaal frowned then, the action slight, but as he looked away Sara knew he was about to say more. “I confess, my concern for you this morning kept me from my nutrient paste…”

“So I did you a favor, is what you’re trying to say,” Sara said offhandedly, though her carefully hidden subtext did not fly past Jaal as his eyes twitched at her with an exasperated wrinkling of his nose. “I’m sorry you were worried…” It was Sara’s turn to frown then, changing her tactic as she reflexively flattened down a loose strap of armor on Jaal’s chest before laying her palm there. “I’d offer you yogurt, but it’s grape.” She stuck her tongue out, not at all finding the yogurt palatable either but it was the only one they had. She’d have to remind Vetra to not even get that flavor because it seemed no one liked it, because it was always the last to go. Jaal wouldn’t even touch it with a 10-foot pole, having found that the artificial flavoring of grape was _peppery_ to him when Suvi had given him a candy from her personal stash. Sara remembered him looking at her painfully, candy-in-mouth, as if waiting for her permission to spit it out in the least offensive way possible.

“I have a thought,” Jaal said then, taking her hand, yogurt and spoon in all, in both of his. “Since you appear to be uninterested in… _that_ ,” his scorn was _not_ unmissed. “I wanted to show you something I found today that you might like.” Sara let go of the uninteresting meal without a fight, as Jaal took it from her grasp and shuffled over to the fridge to place it back on the shelf, where it would remain untouched by the rest of the crew.

“Jaal, are you taking me out on a _date?_ ” Sara teased, letting him take back her hand as he led her out of the mess towards the cargo hold.

“I do not understand what such a word has to do with taking your love somewhere special,” Jaal observed as they walked, head tilted as if trying to really wrap his mind around the _why._ “But if that is what you call it, then yes, I am taking you… to a _date._ ” He squeezed her hand, his sideways look of fondness enough to make her start blushing all over again if not for the perfect opportunity to play with him.

“ _On a date,_ ” Sara corrected, nudging up against him playfully. “You almost got it. When you took me to the forge I would have called that a _date_ , too.” She giggled as he kissed the top of her head, appropriate punishment for sure, and his breath moved her hair when he laughed in amusement. “If you have something better in mind than crappy yogurt, I am so needing that right now. Where are we going?”

“Your _Hydroponics,_ ” Jaal said, reluctantly letting go of her hand once they emerged from the cargo ramp onto the Nexus docking platform. They shared a look, wordlessly communicating the unfortunate necessity of… refraining on the Nexus, at least for now. It had been a difficult discussion, one they had shared a few times: Jaal could not understand the necessity to hide their affection, as angara saw no need to. Sara remembered quite well how _familiar_ many angara seemed with each other on Aya, and it hadn’t even really bothered her, despite how reserved she was with her own behavior. It was...sweet, and lovely, and freeing in a way to see others so in love, and Sara knew that Jaal wanted to express that same love to _her_ and not have to be restricted to just private moments. While she was still working on being comfortable when other people were around: the crew, and… Jaal’s family, it wasn’t even her own modesty that was making public display vastly more difficult, though Jaal was never less than perfection when it came to understanding and _trusting_ her. 

While Jaal truly didn’t _get it_ , he had also recognized the monumental pressure that Sara was under to keep her bosses happy, and against all logic and reason, it would _not_ make them happy if the people of the Initiative were asking _why_ the Pathfinder was getting so cozy with someone they collectively still weren’t sure they could trust. Tensions between the Initiative and the angara were cooling for sure, and they were privately integrating and forming connections that would have been impossible months prior, but there were _just enough_ within the Initiative and angara populations that would have had a lot to say about their affections for one another. Any discontent within the angara would naturally filter up through the Resistance, up to Evfra, and well, Sara knew that he would very publicly make it clear what he thought about his first lieutenant getting comfortable with an alien. _Privately_ , Evfra may very well take a different tone, but that hardly mattered when he had his entire species relying on him for their protection against hostile alien forces. That included people from the Initiative in many cases, unfortunately, as many of the outcasts—and even some from the Initiative itself—had taken a decidedly more combative tone.

This was partially why Sara was cautious about their public displays. She didn’t think anyone cared so much about Jaal’s species or _race_ —that was an old human hangup that dissolved relatively quickly after the First Contact War. The other Citadel member species had already shrugged such shackles off even before then. But the angara were a new species in a new galaxy with unknown politics that were already proving to be messier than even Sara initially realized. There was a general desire amongst the Nexus to assist the them, but with all the trauma that the individual arks had gone through to get here, people were a little less willing to take chances than they might have been before leaving the Milky Way. _That_ was really the mountain they needed to climb, and what made her so wary about the Initiative leadership’s judgment. 

“I dislike that we must do this,” Jaal finally said under his breath, echoing sentiments that he had made known several times before. His words were overlaid with a grumble of discontent, that Sara felt matched in her own breast as he fell into lockstep with her once they reached _Arrival Processing_. “But I understand the necessity for it.” 

“I don’t like it anymore than you do…” Sara said, frowning as she stopped to nod at one of the processing officers that Kandros employed: the Nexus version of _C-Sec_ of sorts, monitoring who came onto the station and what they brought with them for security risks. Most colonists coming out a cryo were processed here as they joined the rest of the Initiative, and now that angara were allowed on board, this is where they were shepherded through. Given how critical the Nexus was to their very survival, there was naturally a higher level of scrutiny here. It was a short walk to the Hydroponics section, connected to the main thoroughfare just past this security checkpoint that had become routine for Sara. She passed easily through—being _Pathfinder_ had its perks, letting her get around a lot of bioscans and paperwork, but she had to stop when she realized Jaal was not immediately behind her.

Sara hadn’t often come through this checkpoint with other members of the crew, including Jaal, so at first she didn’t quite realize just _how much_ extra scrutiny was placed on him. She’d taken for granted the fact that he had been an integral member of her crew for some time, and had simply assumed that with that came the same ease of coming and going that she didn’t have to worry about. No one on the Tempest had ever mentioned being stopped at checkpoints, including Jaal, but maybe he hadn’t thought too hard on the extra hoops he mysteriously had to jump through that were simply not present for her. He certainly didn’t seem to care too much, his expression unchanging as he was finally waved through to join her, though Sara wondered how much of that was internalised. He was probably opting to be polite about it rather than bring anything to her attention. 

It wasn’t so much the mundane and routine questions from the processing agents that bothered Sara so much as it was the fact that it _shouldn’t_ have been that way. To start, they had come to Andromeda with the intent to _stop_ all that, when all they had really done was transfer the burden of that mistrust onto the angara: the unknown variable who’s galaxy _they_ entered without warning, and while that hadn’t been the intent it still bothered Sara.

She was going to have a talk with Kandros, whether he liked it or not. 

Not wanting to let on that she was bothered, Sara offered Jaal an encouraging smile, which he returned earnestly as they walked side-by-side with a familiar closeness. This main chamber on the Nexus, a link to the shuttle tram and other sections of this side of the station, was also a common mingling space for reuniting friends and family as people arrived. Such a wide open space, with it’s false sky and sunlight gave one the feeling of standing in a brightly lit foyer, the cylindrical dock section on the opposing end completely open against a backdrop of Milky Way greenery and fabricated housing. It was getting more and more crowded here each time Sara visited, more angara mingling with the Initiative colonists, and that was promising. Maybe soon, her and Jaal wouldn’t have to hide their affections any longer…

They didn’t have to walk long before people already noticed them, conversations halting mid-sentence as eyes passed over the human Pathfinder and the angara “liaison” that walked together to Hydroponics. There was curiosity and appreciation in their stolen glances and resumed conversations—now discussing _them_ —where there had previously been fear and mistrust. Maybe people would stop caring sooner than she thought, and she knew that the more time she spent with Jaal publically the more questions would inevitably arise.

Sara looked around and saw nobody was looking then, before reaching over and giving Jaal’s hand a quick squeeze. He seemed content with the gesture, as he squeezed back, giving her a quick glance that was equal parts surprise and pleasure. The soft smile he offered her, secret and meant only for her, was the only reminder she needed to know that whatever happened, they would fight through it together. She would do whatever it took to make sure that whatever future her people won in all this, that the angara would have a part in it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even with all the notes I take, I'm always worried I'm going to lose track of all these little threads I unravel as I go along. I generally write a basic outline of how I want the story and the chapters to progress, but sometimes when I'm writing, these small littler internal bits of lore and narrative come out. /Hopefully/ I do my job right and keep track of them all, as something that seems like it may have dropped off *may* already be in my notes just waiting to come back. 
> 
> Seriously debating whether or not to pick up where I left off on my other Mass Effect fic I started ages ago. It's not a Shepard-centered fic, but involves an OC and Kolyat (never got into the Orianna/Kolyat pairing personally), and well, based on my patterns I'm sure you can guess where that inevitably goes. >_>


	16. Subtlety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaal surprises Sara with something unexpected, and they learn that they probably aren't as subtle as they think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this one took me a while. I've actually had it written for some time, and even have the next chapter already written too, but it's been an incredibly busy past two months for me. Between a rather stressful move, stressful job changes, PAX East, and various other troubles, everything just seemed to get in the way. The good news is, I'm still alive, and should return to more of a regular updating schedule soon!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has still been commenting!

If anyone asked Sara what her favorite part of the Nexus was, she probably would have said _Hydroponics._ She knew she wouldn’t have been alone, as many found a certain comfort in the oxygen-producing, cultivated greenhouse sector of the Nexus that was a small reminder of home. An abundant collection of plants, shrubbery and trees from the Milky Way had been carefully housed here, maintained during their journey by the Nexus AI systems. It’s main purpose was to be one of the many oxygen generators for the station—it was not large enough to support the station on its own, but it lessened the burden of the air scrubbers by being just one of many larger green sections. It was frankly a miracle it had survived the journey, _flourished_ actually, because if the initial colonists on the Nexus had awoken to a dead sector it would have significantly crippled their efforts.

Now, in addition to having a utilitarian purpose, it also boosted morale, along with being an ambassador of sorts to allow the angara a glimpse of what their ecosystems back home had looked like. Various pathways and plazas had been built within the sprawling section, to accommodate those who simply wanted to stroll through or spend their leisure time amongst the refreshing greenery. The air certainly had a _clean_ feeling to it in here, and the timed irrigation systems kept the plants sparkling with moisture. It was _alive_ , and a welcoming respite from whatever was going on outside the Nexus.

Heleus had its own beauty; the exotic flora and fauna that the angara lived amongst had its own fascinating charm, but there was something comforting to Sara about seeing Earth pine trees again, moistened by sprinklers as if they were kissed by morning dew. 

Sara’s interest in what Jaal wanted to show her in Hydroponics quickly overshadowed anything else on her mind as they stepped through the double entryway—meant to preserve the integrity and “purity” of the section by keeping the climate carefully controlled. She liked coming to this spot on the Nexus when she could, the colorful gem that was a fantastical spark of different colors and textures of Milky Way flora. It smelled like home, and it was quiet and peaceful. She could have even tricked herself into thinking she heard the hum of insects dancing amongst the flowers, willfully mistaking the background _hum_ of electronics for something less fabricated. In spite of everything, she would have actually welcomed them. 

It wasn’t actually all that surprising to learn that Jaal had already been drawn to this spot, given that his family home was surrounded by a literal explosion of colorful, lush jungle. Even where she’d found him on Aya, the metropolitan center was covered in the tropical flowers and vines native to the planet like they were holding the very foundations of the city together. It seemed only natural that Jaal would want to share this spot with her at some point. It was like a small piece of Havarl, or Aya, right here on the Nexus, but this time, it was a part of _her_. It was a romantic sentiment, and Sara only wished she’d had the time to come here with Jaal sooner, as this was the first time they were crossing through that climate-control barrier together.

Additionally not surprising, were the number of angara in the space as they walked into the Hydroponics proper, mingling amongst themselves in groups or with other Initiative colonists. Everyone spoke in hushed tones here, and it only highlighted the disparaging lack of birdsong and ambient noise, as would have normally been natural in such a space as it was comparatively on the Citadel. It was comforting though, to see Andromeda, and Milky Way species alike showing the space the same reverence that it deserved.

Unfortunately Sara hadn’t had the opportunity to come here the last few times they’d docked on the Nexus, so there were a number of features that she hadn’t seen before. Tables and chairs had been added, along with benches spaced at various intervals along the pathways, all distinctly angaran in design. Before, people had simply sat on the ground or against the walls, but the angara had actually _enhanced_ the space by making it even more enticing to simply remain and soak it all in.

What Sara hadn’t expected to see at all, was the small stand served by a single angaran woman down a somewhat more secluded path, one that Jaal traveled down almost on autopilot as if he’d been there before. At first it was hard to ascertain exactly what it was, until the distinct notes of spices hit her senses, and she almost whined out loud as soon as she processed what she was smelling. It was _food_ —a _food stand_ , that somehow had been allowed to set up shop in Hydroponics. Sara wasn’t going to complain, but she would have never thought that Tann would allow something so potentially disruptive to a very important place. Though, sitting in the middle of an open plaza with plenty of clearance around it probably meant that it never actually came into contact with anything that could come to harm.

“...What?” Sara said to no one in particular, though Jaal turned to her with an air of smug pride as he smiled down at her dumbfounded shock. She had about a million questions, but they took a backseat to her ravenous hunger that had only managed to intensify once the scent hit her senses. It smelled like Daar Pelaav, like she was back there with Jaal on their first day as a couple all over again, and it made her additionally wistful with nostalgia.

“I found this earlier today,” he said, leading her forward with a hand delicately on her arm. Sara had stopped walking, becoming momentarily lost with something so new and unexpected in the space. “I thought you might enjoy this more than the food on the ship.” That was a rather tame assessment compared to how she actually felt about this development. She would have expected to see something more close to home pop up on the Nexus before anything angaran, especially something that was such a _novelty_. Tann or Addison would have scoffed at Initiative resources going to something so small and relatively narrow-reaching as a small food stand. Even the Vortex made the salarian grumble about wasted productivity and efforts—not to mention, _resources_ —but people needed a release. Even these small gestures, like the one Sara was facing now, could make a monumental impact on someone’s day, which would translate to greater benefits down the road. Even someone as stingy as Tann could see _that_ if given good enough reason too.

Of course, an angara wasn’t necessarily bound to such inflexible restrictions of practicality in many cases, so it made sense that they could afford a more entrepreneurial approach. They certainly made their own conflict-driven sacrifices, but they had the advantage of having the initial foothold in Heleus soil. Besides, it was _their_ resources Tann was allowing them to waste...

“Are you kidding me?” Sara would have run up to it, if not for the fact that she didn’t want to look too eager in the face of the angaran waving them over. She appeared to recognize Jaal, her smile breaking as the pair stood before the little counter.

“You are back again, I see.” The angaran woman said, a pleased glint in her cool gray eyes. She had vibrant blue skin with pale freckles, and appeared somewhat older, perhaps a bit older than Sahuna by Sara’s guess. “And you have brought the Pathfinder to see me!” She gave Sara a once-over, clear recognition in her eyes.

“I met _Shaalen_ earlier today,” Jaal explained, glancing at Sara after giving the other angara a warm greeting. “I had said I would come back with you, to eat together.”

“You look surprised,” Shaalen noted, turning her attention bach to Sara. “I could recognize this one from the moment I saw him,” she gestured pointedly at Jaal, who suddenly looked away awkwardly as a flush of blue began to tint the high points of his cheeks. It wasn’t unusual for Jaal to be noticed by any means, but his sudden discomfort was definitely an anomaly. He generally took people’s attention in stride. It came with the territory, being one of Evfra’s closest lieutenants, so many angara would recognize him wherever they went. And of course, his time with the Pathfinder team made him _very_ recognizable within the Initiative: he was _the_ angara traveling with the human Pathfinder. That was what made it so tricky trying to navigate their new relationship: as a pair, they were incredibly noticeable, and the more time they spent as said pair, the more people would start wondering, if not outright assuming things...

Before Sara could ask, Jaal clarified. “It seems I am being used for the purposes of Resistance recruitment…” He sniffed, an action of collecting himself, before turning to look at Sara with a pained grimace. “There are… _posters._ ”

“ _What?!_ ” Sara perhaps blurted that out louder than she’d intended, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” It was clear that she was getting more joy out of this than Jaal was, as she feigned a punch against his arm that barely made him sway. 

“I did not know,” Jaal said plainly as he turned back to the angaran woman. “It is how she recognized me.” If Sara was reading him right, he actually seemed rather annoyed that this _Shaalen_ had pointed it out to him in the first place, perhaps preferring the ignorance of never being made aware that his face was plastered all over the walls somewhere. Since he didn’t look _angry_ , sharing a look with her that bordered on mild bemusement and a _challenge_ to poke fun at him over this, Sara thought it was worth the risk.

“Where would I find these posters?” Sara asked, trying to sound innocent… and maybe mildly disinterested, when what she really wanted was to get her hands on one of those things immediately. She had the real thing to fawn at whenever she wanted, but she was insanely curious to see what exactly such a poster looked like.

“They are all over the residential ward,” Shaalen explained—likely the _angaran_ residential ward, as Initiative colonists probably weren’t their target demographic. “I see them every day. Such a handsome face has a way of grabbing your attention.” Sara felt her face start to heat up as a blush began to spread across her cheeks, the woman’s eyes locking onto her’s knowingly. Almost, _too_ knowingly. “You are lucky to have such a mate.”

“I—uh—” Sara glanced at Jaal in sudden panic, _pleading_ for some kind of intervention or sign of what to say, but all she got was a maddeningly neutral expression in response. He was not quite as alarmed as she was, because of course he wouldn’t be, because this woman was clearly happy for them. 

“Angara can be very perceptive,” Jaal offered delicately, and he looked about as concerned with it as an einroch was concerned with a bullet; that was to say, not concerned at all. That didn’t explain _how_ Shaalen had guessed, though Jaal’s expression seemed to suggest that he had been hit with similar surprise earlier. Surely, _he_ wouldn’t have told her…

“It is… easy to see in the vids, though many may not be so quick to believe it.” Shaalen said, perhaps sensing Sara’s exact question to this effect, though she never doubted that Jaal would be careless like that; at least, _for now_. “Your secret is safe with me. I know, that the ancestors will bless all of your many children.” _Now_ Sara was red, and suddenly incredibly uncomfortable, warring with the urge to flee and the increasingly intense desire to eat some of the delicious smelling food that was warming behind the angaran woman.

And it helped, to see Jaal so similarly startled, the blush starting to deepen and make its way up his throat. The uncomfortable smile he was trying to hide broke, behind the buzzing unease Sara was actually starting to feel against her skin. Despite all of Jaal’s physical signs to the contrary it almost felt… _excited._

“Ah—I was, wanting to share what you have to offer with Sara,” Jaal hastily changed the subject, but just like she had noticed on Havarl, Sara knew there was a discussion to be had there. He was definitely thinking about _something_ that they should probably revisit at some point, but it was perhaps too early to approach that topic. And Jaal had actually used her name, which was infinitely more intimate and familiar when she was so used to the public referring to her as Pathfinder, even in person. Jaal always used her name in familiar company, but seeing as the secret was clearly already out with this particular stranger he felt no need for the formalities. Especially considering the weirdly personal conversation that had just transpired, leaving Sara almost dizzy from the rapid shifts in topics.

If this angaran woman could tell just by watching them in whatever vids were circulating around Heleus, then maybe they weren’t being as discreet as they thought...

“Yes, yes, that was rude of me!” Shaalen turned and began busying herself with the food behind the counter, which appeared to be large skewers of meat on wooden sticks: that probably explained a little bit how it was allowed to be in Hydroponics, because from what Sara could tell there did not appear to be anything that would cause waste. The sticks were organic, and likely posed no threat of damage to anything around it were they to be accidentally left behind. The wood itself felt familiar underneath her fingers as the woman handed her one skewer of meat, so it was probably Milky Way in origin. So, the only thing truly foreign here was probably the meat itself, and Sara was almost afraid to ask…

Before Sara could even collect herself, Jaal had already paid Shaalen and was gesturing for her to follow him. Trotting up next to him once she finally got over herself, a question suddenly came to mind as she frowned. “Is Evfra seriously using you for recruitment without asking you?” Clearly, Jaal’s status within the ranks would probably provide a good boost to their numbers, but it seemed a little sleazy to go about doing something like that without actually _asking_ the subject being used. _Recruitment posters_ didn’t even seem like Evfra’s style to begin with, and he’d probably find something like that frivolous and wasteful. If the Resistance needed recruitment help, they were probably doing something wrong. That was at least, what she _thought_ Evfra would say….

“They are not… official recruitment posters,” Jaal said, as they wandered down another small path that wound around patches of trees: pine trees and what Sara thought looked like a medium sized maple. It lead out into another small courtyard with an irrigation pond, where a few angara and a turian were sitting in the various chairs strewn about. “It seems some overzealous recruits have taken it upon themselves to use their admiration of my recent exploits…” He looked at her then, eyes slightly narrowed to express what he was _really_ saying: his time on the Tempest was apparently turning out to be good for the Resistance.

“Are you going to do anything about them?” Sara asked, unable to stop herself from inhaling a breath to fully take in the scent of the food. Her mouth was starting to water, for additional reasons too, as she blushed. “Not going to lie, I’d kind of like to get my hands on one of these things…” She gave him a sarcastic grin, knowing she didn’t truly _need_ one, but there was a certain satisfaction in giving Jaal a hard time about it. “It’ll be good replacement for when you’re not in the same room as me.”

“I see, so you are suggesting that you would enjoy images of me in order to cope with my absence?” He stopped, giving her a piercing, knowing look. “Would any image suffice, or does it require certain parts of me?”

Sara could feel herself start to get really red all over again, wondering just how in the hell Jaal had managed to make it flirtatious and sexual—which he had _definitely_ just done—but she supposed she’d technically steered them down that path to begin with. She was clearly never going to learn.  
“If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting…” Sara said coyly. “Then any part of you will do.” She couldn’t stop the stupid grin from spreading on her face. It really wouldn’t have surprised her to learn that angaran couples also enjoyed sending each other photos of a more salacious nature, which _had_ to be what Jaal was insinuating. Even though Sara had already seen Jaal naked before, as much of a relative misunderstanding as it was at the time, the intent was different when it involved two lovers excitedly sharing such private things with one another.

“I see,” Jaal rumbled lowly, a hint of hopefulness in his voice as he smiled, looking away. They were walking again, traveling down the center of the courtyard. “I will keep that in mind,” he said with a chuckle, and yes, he was definitely insinuating what she was thinking, and _definitely_ blushing about it. Clearly the very suggestion excited him too, and while Sara had initially been joking, it suddenly sounded immensely appealing now that it was out and something to look forward to. 

“I mean, it’s for the Resistance, right?” Sara added, staring straight forward and trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible.

“The Resistance, or for you?” Jaal did the same, clearly aware of what she was doing and playing along.

“That would certainly convince me to join your cause.”

Jaal actually laughed then, though it was breathy and quiet. “I am glad you have that much faith in my appeal.” He must have sensed then that she was looking at him, because he glanced back in her direction before giving her an affirming little smile. Her frown from his own joke at his personal expense had not gone unnoticed, and he was probably trying to assure her that he wasn’t serious, but Sara wasn’t entirely convinced. “Truthfully, if the posters have a positive impact on morale, than I cannot complain about them.” She’d noticed on several occasions that Jaal had some internalized self-worth issues, some more subtle than others: how he’d reacted to Reyes, his almost disbelief that she would say yes to being with him, the way he talked about the prestige of his family as if he wasn’t really included in that assessment...

To now, feeling embarrassed and clearly uncertain that his image on any posters would have the intended benefit.

Sara said nothing to this, having no real reason to question Jaal’s intent, as it was truly up to him to decide how he felt about posters. If she had been in that position, she wasn’t sure she would have taken it quite as well as he had, but she supposed his attitude about it was reasonable. He was nothing if not accomodating, and she had to wonder if it was to his detriment sometimes, considering it now appeared that Jaal had waited _all day_ before eating just so that he could eat with her, shared nerves or not. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me, Jaal…” She finally said, following him to a slightly more secluded bench on the far end. Here, they were paid almost no attention, as the turian they passed appeared too wrapped up in the datapad he was holding while the angara only glanced at them for a second before resuming their conversation. 

“I preferred it,” Jaal said simply, but it didn’t stop Sara from feeling a little bit guilty. They sat close, their legs touching with obvious familiarity, but there were no eyes on them that would have possibly cared. “I wanted to share this with you.”

“Aaaw,” Sara trilled under her breath. “Did you scope this place out just for me?” She had a feeling Jaal was going to make a habit of doing this, doing a little reconnaissance on his own to find these little out-of-the way places to take her. Sara wasn’t sure why she didn’t find that surprising, but it just seemed so like him. 

“It is _rahvek_ , a common livestock on Aya,” Jaal finally explained, gesturing to the skewer in her hand that matched his own. It looked like a _lot_ of meat to be sure, but Sara’s eyes were possibly a lot bigger than her stomach at the moment. “You looked concerned. I believe it might be similar to your own… _beef_.”

“Did you get that from the cultural center?” Sara already kind of knew the answer to that question, but still found it nice that he was making those kinds of connections for her. Jaal’s nod as he began to make quick work of the food in his hand only confirmed this, and it additionally confirmed that he really must have been hungry. “I do really miss beef. _Actual_ beef,” she said with a frown, before actually taking a bite—and it was _heavenly_ , the meat having a perfect little snap once she bit down, crisp from an open-flame grill, before nearly melting in her mouth. The heavy spices were overwhelming at first, compared to the bland, ration food she had grown so used to, as the inside of her cheeks tightened with the sudden assault of flavor on her tastebuds. It was simultaneously painful, but desperately wanted, because after her first bite she couldn’t stop eating.

“What else do you miss?” Jaal asked, his food having mysteriously vanished only to be replaced by a single, slightly charred stick. Such a large hunk of meat certainly hadn’t posed much of a challenge for him, and yet Sara thought _she_ was eating fast even though she’d only gotten a few bites in. 

And now, with his hand free, he’d quietly placed his arm around the top of the bench behind her, the universal sneak-attack when one wanted to put their arms around another without being noticed. Sara only glanced at him, an _I know what you’re up to_ look which he returned with an innocent shifting of his eyes. 

Sara sighed then, breathing deeply. “I miss… being in places like this.” She said, looking around at the trees. The way the light came down from the fabricated ceiling shimmered almost perfectly through the leaves, allowing her to fool herself into thinking it was dappling sunshine. “Growing up on Earth, there was a large patch of forest behind our house. Scott and I used to sneak out there together when we were kids.” Taking another bite, she paused to collect her thoughts as Jaal watched her patiently. He shifted a bit, his arm managing to tighten around her shoulder, and now she could feel the subtle flow of his current against her. “We built this crappy little shelter out of branches and leaves, called it our home away from home. We could pretend there that we were the masters of our own universe…”

Jaal leaned into her slightly, his gaze drawn down to her lap where Sara had rested her hands. A pang of regret suddenly had her hunger diminished and the cooling food forgotten.

“When I was a child, I would often find myself in our garden storage room in order to be alone. It was just me, and the small trinkets I could play with and take apart,” Jaal said finally. “I felt, overwhelmed by expectation. I had brothers and sisters before me who were respected, but I did not know how to achieve that…” That explained a whole hell of a lot, and Sara wondered if Jaal had intended to say what she’d just interpreted: he didn’t feel deserving, so he battled with trying to prove that he was. That sounded… so familiar to Sara. 

“Scott felt a lot of pressure to be something that would make our dad proud. I don’t know how I really escaped that, but it was always hurting him. I could tell…” Sara frowned at him, finding it sad to think that Jaal had felt a similar sense of pressure and responsibility to make something of himself at such a young age. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.. but, look at you now.” She couldn't help but smile at him then, feeling impish. “You’re famous enough to be on your own posters…”

“Sara…” Jaal chided, but she could tell from the glimmer in his eyes that he was enjoying the attention, even if it was just a little bit. He was returning her stare now, sincere and fully- focused on her, and Sara found herself locked in. “Though, I feel comforted in knowing that I have found my path.” If someone had happened to glance their way, they would not have been able to explain away how they were looking at each other as something other than what it was: unmistakable closeness and familiarity, something more than mere comrades, and perhaps, unyielding devotion. Sara couldn’t really find it in herself to care anymore, wanting nothing more than to convince him that he _mattered_. After everything they had achieved _together_ , how could he possibly think otherwise?

The mind was a hell of a thing, sometimes managing to convince you of the worst, even when there was no evidence to support it. 

“I do not mean to place such a weight on you. My burdens are not yours to bear,” Jaal finally said, looking away slightly as if ashamed. Sara had already gotten a sense of this from him, earlier on in their interactions that he had been… restless in life before the Tempest had arrived on Aya. He had already hinted at it many times that he felt his time with them was fulfilling some sort of purpose for him, like he had found what he was meant to do. She was happy for him, maybe even a bit _honored_ that their little ragtag group of Milky Way aliens had helped him find his way. 

“I _want_ to, because it’s important to me too.” Sara said, trying to draw his gaze back to her without outright pulling his face back with her hand. “Unload whatever you need onto me. I can take it. Lord knows I’ve already unloaded a lot onto you.” More importantly too, she got a sense that Jaal was also trying to say _something else_ , in that he saw her as something more than just the _leader_ of said group; more than a friend and a lover even, but something of a course-corrector. Jaal said nothing in response, but she saw a calm awareness pass over his face that was the acceptance to her plea. “ _You_ are important to me.” She added, hoping to catch all of his uncertainties in one net, to prove to him that he was every bit as deserving of all the praise and admiration as anyone he compared himself to.

Ordinarily, Sara would have balked at such a heaping of responsibility onto her shoulders from a previous lover, but none of them were _Jaal_. This was the angara in him, wearing his heart and emotions on his sleeve and laying it all out at her feet for her to accept or not. She chose to accept it, and cradle it like it was precious; protect him at all costs. He had been through _so much:_ the loss of family in the midst of a genocidal war, and his own internalized denial of his own self-worth for who knew how long in his life. This wouldn’t _fix_ him, but hopefully help him begin to see the light that had been hidden from him for so long.

“I appreciate you saying so…” Jaal said, and while the statement itself was fairly benign, Sara knew by his tone that he was taking it to heart. “It is not your responsibility to make me… lose my mistaken personal judgments, but it does bring me joy to hear you say it…” She understood what he meant: she could scream it at him until she was blue in the face, but at the end of the day he had to find the strength within himself to overcome that which he had conditioned himself to believe. 

“I know, but I’m here to help you, whenever you need it.” He’d already done so much for her, cradling her when she cried, being there for her when she needed to talk, holding her when she’d needed him most. She wanted to make sure that he understood that if he _needed_ someone in his corner, she would always be there. They _all_ would on the Tempest, because he was family. Struggling on one’s own, rebuking all the helping hands that came your way was not healthy.

Sara knew what that looked like, even if she’d never experienced it herself, because it sounded like Scott.

Taking a breath and focusing inward, Sara reasoned that it was healthier not to dwell, and instead to focus on moving forward. _Together_. Jaal’s expression as he gazed down at her was tender, and it was clear he was truly taking her words to heart and _listening_ as she returned his warm expression with a smile of her own.

“I think… that you and Scott will have a lot in common. I think he’ll like you,” Sara finally said, absorbing the way Jaal’s expression morphed from thoughtful, to slightly apprehensive. She could tell that he wanted to say something, but was having a hard time putting the words together. “You’ll have to meet him before the week is over, because it seems we’re not leaving here without him…”

“He is well enough to travel?” Suddenly, Jaal’s apprehension was replaced with excitement, perhaps at the news that her brother's condition wasn’t as dire as he had likely imagined. Sara remembered that she’d only told Jaal in passing that Scott was fine, but nothing really more than that. “That is wonderful news!” 

“You haven’t met him _yet,_ so don’t be too hasty…” Sara joked, glad to see the sparkle back in Jaal’s eyes now that they had changed the subject to something more hopeful. “He’s a bit weak… and sickly looking right now, but with proper food and rehabilitation he should be back in shape pretty quickly,” she added, trying to slip straight passed her own joke. “I thought later in the week you could meet him on the Tempest, just the three of us. It would be easier for you both, I think.”

“That is sensible,” Jaal said, though the unease in his voice was clear. 

“He’ll probably be… wary of you at first. We’re very protective of each other, so… he may try to act tough in order to intimidate you,” Sara chanced the possible repercussions of her next move, decided she didn’t care, and firmly gave Jaal a pat on his thigh where it was still touching hers. “You’ll be fine,” she said with a smile.

“I am a stranger to him. Being angara I am that much more of an anomaly. It will be good to finally meet him.” Jaal said, his eyes darting to survey their surroundings, but no one had noticed. The look he gave her then was _burning,_ the _I know you’re testing my restraint too,_ look. He was practically buzzing with the need to touch her, his arm still haphazardly thrown around the back of the bench, so it was only fair that she tease him too...

Sara realized then, that she had so far failed to show Jaal any of the photos she had with her, especially the photos of her family. How could she have so carelessly forgotten to share her own family with him, when family was everything to angara. There was no excuse, when her photos were keystrokes away on her Omni-tool, though, she supposed they were generally sufficiently distracted when they were alone, and the middle of a firefight was not the best time to start sharing childhood memories.

Now however, it may bring Jaal some comfort and ease his worries if he at least _saw_ Scott before meeting him proper. So, keying up her archives on her Omni-Tool—and _not at all_ trying to avoid the inevitability that they were dangerously close to making out right there in Hydroponics—Sara brought up the collection of photos she had been looking at the other night.

“I can’t believe I haven’t shown you these yet. They’re photos that I took in the Milky Way… 600 years ago.” Jaal had obviously seen all the documentary vids and images from the Cultural Center, but these were candid snapshots Sara had taken of her own life. They were _personal_ , and surely that would mean something to him as much as it did to her.

“They are pieces of you,” Jaal said fondly, outright confirming what she had already been hoping. 

“You sap,” Sara snarked, unable to stop herself. “Don’t ever change.” Finally able to focus back on her food, which was decidedly colder, but still delicious, she slowly cycled through the images.

They were images of Earth, from the various places she had traveled, from the cities to the more isolated scenic spots that she had wanted to remember once she came to Andromeda. Sara preempted any question Jaal may have had by explaining the locations in the photos to the best of her recollection. 

There were a few older pictures of her and Scott together when they were younger, even less with their parents sharing the space with them. Jaal commented how similar they looked to each other, something Sara had never really thought herself, but it was a nice sentiment coming from him. They were much younger in the images, so they moved passed those quickly, though she knew he appreciated seeing such cherished memories. 

He also seemed particularly interested in the cityscapes, the dense, sprawling urbanization of Earth like nothing that existed in Heleus. Sara thought Jaal would have found such places too chaotic and frustrating, lacking in the quiet comforts and intimacy that one could easily find in an angara settlement. 

Eventually, they came to the image of her and Scott together with Alec, on her brother’s graduation night. It was the very same image she had been looking at after she first learned Scott was awake. 

“This was not too long before we left…” Sara explained. “Scott was graduating from the Earth Systems Alliance… it was sort of… Earth’s joint colonization and security force.”

“Your father was part of this, as was your brother.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t for me. But for Scott… I think he did it to try and prove something. He’ll never admit it, but I think he thought our dad would appreciate it.”

Jaal didn’t comment on this further, and Sara knew why. His father had been taken when he was still too young to make such a decision. Too old to be forgetful and not remember the pain, but too young at the time to really do something about it. That had to have been a special kind of hell, and Sara wondered if a lot of Jaal’s personal uncertainties could be traced back to that moment; losing his father had knocked him astray, setting him on a course where he didn’t know which side was up.

There were more photos of the various Prothean dig sites Sara had been a part of, and the Citadel from when the family lived there in later years. Jaal asked questions, interested in having her point out and explain some of the different technological artifacts in the photos, all while his lips had somehow made their way onto her temple. They were _mostly_ alone now. The turian with the datapad had left some time ago, and the group of angara had slowly diminished to two. Perhaps this relative lack of company had made Jaal more comfortable and Sara care slightly less, or maybe it was the belief that if the _angara_ here noticed they would be less likely to react to any sort of display of affection, regardless of who was involved.

The final photo was an image of Earth. Sara remembered taking the photo, standing on the deck of the Hyperion with Scott just minutes before she went into cryo. She had looked back on the photo multiple times since waking up in Andromeda, less so more recently, but every time she saw it a flare of regret sparked within her breast as she looked at the swirling blue orb. 

Stilling, Jaal sensed her change, though he said nothing to give her the opportunity to speak on her own. “I took this picture of Earth right before I went into cryo… this is the last time I saw it,” she said finally with a frown. Jaal had seen Earth of course. One didn’t spend so much time in the cultural center without actually seeing the various homeworlds, but viewing it from Sara’s perspective, with such a personal reflection behind it was different. “I wonder what it looks like now… if it’s even still there...” Thinking it an oddly, pessimistic thing to say, Sara took a breath. “Lots of memories here.” 

“It is pleasing to see these moments that you cherished.” Jaal’s voice was quiet and heavy against her temple, almost _reverent_ in his appreciation. Sara flushed, a flutter low and deep as she smiled. 

“Mmhmm, I can tell you’re pleased,” Sara knew Jaal hadn’t meant anything scandalous by such a statement, but she couldn’t help but poke fun at him. He wasn’t so much kissing her there, but rather nuzzling against the hair on her temple as if he was trying to feel her.

His chuckle was breathy and warm against her scalp, moving her hair. Sara felt a quivering in the air, like all the oxygen particles around them were simmering with energy, and she knew with conviction it was _impossible_ that other angara wouldn’t be able to sense this. Jaal had to have known this, and maybe he just didn’t care. Sara could barely even muster any will to be mildly concerned about it, as she felt herself begin to grow warm with flushed excitement. 

“This is a separate pleasure.” Jaal affirmed, and Sara felt a pit of warmth begin to churn at the bottom of her stomach as she reflexively tilted her head against him. “I confess that I enjoy the feel of your hair....” Growing bolder, his mouth moved against her in an approximation of a slow, torturous kiss, before moving lower to kiss just against her ear. “...Against my lips… and my skin...”

“ _Jaal!_ ” Sara squeaked, though it was without any real power behind it. “My god, not right here!” She pulled away to look at him, saw the disappointment pass over his face right before his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he took in the state of her. Her face was _hot_ , probably bright red, as her entire body was practically on fire with a tingling need. “Do we need to go back to the ship?” It was a realistic question, asked with a laugh as she noted the flush creeping up Jaal’s face too. Though, he seemed considerably less concerned; so confident and assured in his _affections_ , and almost like he wanted to devour her. 

“Do we?”

“I’m going to _leave_ you here.” Sara threatened cooly, doing her best to keep a straight face. It was hard, when his eyes were piercing, and _moving_ her in ways that were making being out in public very problematic. 

“Sara, I know where the ship is.”

Making a dramatic show of sighing, Sara keyed her Omni-tool and closed her archives. Slipping the stick from her food in her pocket (she was considering bringing it on the Tempest with her, strange as that was, to bring a little organic life into her quarters even if it was just a dead stick), she stood to face Jaal. His eyes followed her with keen interest as she faked a stern expression, hands planted squarely at her hips.

“Jaal, your Pathfinder would like a private word with you.” Sara could barely keep a straight face, forcing the stupid laugh back down her throat as her midsection did interesting flips. Looking down at Jaal this way, feeling empowered and in control was it’s own little thrill, and judging by the glint in his eyes he was finding his own appeal at being on the receiving end. His expression edged slowly into the darkest of smirks, his body still and waiting as he waited for the inevitable invitation. “In her _quarters._ ”

Jaal would not keep his Pathfinder waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CALM DOWN.


	17. Earthlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finality of a life-altering decision has Sara fearing the unknown

Earth hung in the black space on the other side of the pressurized viewport, glittering like an iridescent blue marble in the empty vacuum. Sparks of light flickered around the orb as passing ships and satellites caught Sol’s luminescence, the constant activity around humanity’s homeworld a familiar, almost welcoming sight. From the first moment they saw her glittering oceans and swirling clouds in the 20th century, they had been gifted a profound sense of awe and humility that had propelled them to Mars centuries later. There were struggles and missteps along the way, a battle to preserve their world against their worse natures and demons of self-interest, but they had somehow managed to prevail against stacked odds. Now, she flourished, a jewel of the galactic community and a representative of humanity’s progress, whose face was a reminder of where they had come from.

It was the last time Sara would ever see Earth, and that was a confusing weight on her heart she never thought she’d feel. 

Standing on the Hyperion now, one of the many clustered ark ships that hovered just outside Luna’s orbit—this one was fated to carry 10,000 human souls, across 600 years of darkspace to a new frontier—was like standing on the precipice of death; the end of an era, built on thousands of years of evolution and turmoil, a chapter ending in humanity’s possibly finite story. The humans of the Andromeda Initiative were joining thousands more from the other representative species of the Milky Way, to collectively abandon their shared birthplace to seek out new worlds and opportunities. Against all public outcry, ridicule and criticism, they were preemptively ending one chapter and starting a new one, in terrain that had not been touched by any from their kinds. What waited for them on the other side was largely unknown, and whether they would wake to build a new birthplace for generations that would follow, or lead themselves to an extinction in a galaxy that did not welcome them, was yet to be decided. 

The Initiative had been careful to choose worlds and locations that would be uninhabited: no signs of civilization or development that would be violated or disturbed. They would be alone. The Heleus cluster had been the most worthy candidate, with a number of potential worlds that could sustain them, but they were gambling on the idea that no calamity would befall any of these planets during their 600 year sleep. That was, assuming, they even made it that far. There was always the chance that any of the critical systems could fail enroute, marooning them in dark space or killing them during cryosleep. The advanced AI systems on board had the capabilities to enact a number of failsafes in such an event, or correct course if their colony ships wandered into the path of a rogue object, but if _that_ failed, then only so many back-ups could save them. They had prepared for everything, yet there was still so much left to chance.

This had never been attempted before, and probably never again. By the time they arrived in Andromeda, assuming all went according to plan, there was no telling what would happen to what they left behind. By the standards of most of the species in the Milky Way, 600 years was a long time, and many had no interest to leave the comfort of what they knew. When they arrived, the Initiative already had plans in place to attempt communication back to their galaxy of origin, but without knowing _who_ , or _what_ would answer them so many centuries later. For most, everyone they had ever known would be long gone, and the galaxy would very likely be unrecognizable from the one they’d departed from. Maybe they would have forgotten. Maybe they wouldn’t care. Maybe there would be no one at all. 

Sara stood at the viewport, watching the shuttles carrying the remaining Pathfinder crew to the Hyperion docking bay, wondering not for the thousandth time if she was making a mistake. She had been at odds with herself for some time, wondering if her motivation was enough to justify abandoning the only galaxy she had ever known to start over. Could she not weather the storm and destruction that Hurricane Alec Ryder had left in its passing? The insubordination, disobedience and flagrant disregard for the Citadel Council and multitude of governing bodies that had tried to put him in line had left a lasting stain on her family name. Surely though, it would pass, and people would come to know that the Ryder twins were _not_ their father and everything would fall back into place? Why then, was Sara so convinced that there was nothing left for her here, and the only way out was to follow the man who caused it all? A man, who by all accounts had been a stranger to her and Scott since they were born. There should have been no love lost between them. She should have been content to wave Alec Ryder off and turn her back on him for good, but she couldn’t.

Maybe she would never really understand why she was doing it. Impulsive, emotionally driven decisions were her specialty, so why shouldn’t she make the most wildly consequential decision that perhaps any human could make? And why shouldn’t she convince her brother to come with her? Family had to stick together, right? Maybe there was still something worth salvaging in this new beginning. With their mother gone, the only thing that really _had_ been holding it all in place, there had to be something still there worth fighting for, and Sara had to at least try.

Humanity’s progress had been paved by impulsive decisions. Some bad, but others had led them to monumental progress and prosperity. Wasn’t this just one more step?

Somehow, it felt like the right thing to do. Her family had been blacklisted, written out of the Milky Way’s ledgers thanks to her father’s AI research, and there was nothing left for them here. When you had a galactic community who’s most influential movers lived for centuries, memories were long, and insults not soon forgotten. In essence, they were being pushed out. That was at least, how Sara and Scott Ryder felt. 

Alec Ryder wanted the challenge, the _prestige_ to succeed at what no one else had attempted, and nobody would stand in his way. The ire of the galactic bureaucracy had only served to motivate him, and he hadn’t thought twice about jumping galaxies, even if it meant leaving his children behind. 

Maybe, Sara and Scott Ryder were really just running from abandonment. Alec had welcomed them with open arms, so surely, he _wanted_ to start a new life with them..right? He _wanted_ to try again?

Earth, would be left behind, and Sara would never again see the birthplace of her species, and where she had spent most of her younger years growing up. It would of course live on in the archives they took with them, and the personal images she had chosen to keep with her. It would not be the same, and she was having trouble saying that last goodbye and coming to terms with that, especially if loneliness and hardship waited for her on the other side. She needed this moment to absorb the last fragments of its light, the final tendrils of Sol’s rays that generations of humans had felt preceding her, before she finally succumbed to the long sleep. 

The Pathfinder team were some of the last scheduled to be induced in cryosleep before the Hyperion, and the other arks, departed within the hour. These were the last moments before she would shut her eyes in the Milky Way for the last time, and sleep through an unprecedented journey to an unknown reality that was steeped in conjecture and assumption. If it all went to hell when they arrived, or they died enroute, Sara needed these last moments of familiar bliss to sustain her. She had heard that people didn’t dream during cryosleep, their brainwaves unable to process that level of imagery and unconscious function, but it was a nice thought anyway.

Scott, her brother, was putting up a masterful facade of bravery, but she knew he was feeling the same. She could see it behind the fragments of light in his eyes when he cracked a joke or employed sarcasm about the whole thing; shadows of uncertainty and unease. He too, was leaving everything behind, but Sara had finally convinced him to come with her. He would have never let her go alone, which was just as well, because she didn’t think she had the strength to go without him. 

The voices around Sara had quieted as Initiative colonists filtered through the passageways to the cryo bay, emptying the ship around her to diminishing silence. Once everyone was asleep, the Hyperion would be a moving sarcophagus, controlled only by the complex algorithms and code that crafted an artificial will that would have them at its mercy. The sleeping colonists inside would be barely more than corpses, in such a level of stasis needed to facilitate coming out on the other side the same as you left. Sara wondered what the quiet stillness would be like, what it would _feel_ like to wander the Hyperion halls alone for 600 years while they all slept. An asari or a krogan could technically do it, but all Sara could imagine was intense loneliness.

One voice stood out above the rest some distance away from Sara to her right. Alec was talking in low tones with Jien Garson, the Initiative founder and original benefactor, but Sara couldn’t hear their words. She had crossed paths with Jien a few times during orientation and training. The woman had held her own against a sea of criticism and ridicule from the entire galaxy: this venture was foolish and doomed to fail; costly and wasteful… and unnecessary. In more recent interactions the woman had seemed more anxious and hurried, like they were racing against an invisible countdown that no one could see. Sara had heard rumors that money had dried up, the entire Initiative expenses exceeding well beyond initial projections, but construction and preparations had continued unimpeded regardless. So, Sara had chalked it up to just conspiracy driven whispers, despite the fact that it felt like someone important knew something that they didn’t. It certainly hadn’t helped Sara’s already growing reluctance to come to terms with her own decision.

Alec Ryder had never skipped a beat, never letting his path stray from his ultimate goal, and he’d certainly never let on that anything had changed. On the surface, nothing had really felt different. Even now, Alec was cool and collected as he spoke with Jien across the way, their conversation was too low for Sara to catch. She imagined that they were discussing final preparations: Alec would be one of the last to go into cryosleep, with Jien Garson right behind him. The founder would see them all off during the finale. What they were saying didn’t really matter now, because Sara was too focused on her own melancholy. She still had time to pull out, to board a shuttle and leave the Hyperion behind, and take her chances out there fighting for her own reputation where things were at least familiar.

A heavy hand dropped onto her shoulder then, startling her out of her own thoughts as her legs buckled underneath the weight of the sudden intrusion. She didn’t have to look to know by feel alone who it was, as she had gotten used to such startling announcements of his presence from the day they were born. He _had_ been the loudest baby of the two of them after all.

“Scott—” Sara hissed, rubbing her shoulder absently to ward off the soreness that was soon to follow. “ _Why?_ ”

“You were looking a little tense, sis.” Scott shuffled into her space, one arm draping itself heavily around her shoulders as he followed her line of sight out the viewport. He hummed in appreciation, a deep breath filling his chest. “Nice view.” Sara glanced at him, his angular profile reflecting the light from the other side. From her angle his eyes seemed to sparkle, the reflection of Earth’s pale form creating a ring of blue against the umber of his eyes, a contrast to the slight frown on his lips as he stared.

“Are we making a mistake?” Sara finally blurted, her voice low. The last thing she needed was Alec hearing her voicing any sort of concerns at zero-hour: a _weakness_. A lack of conviction! 

“Ask me on the other side,” Scott snarked, a slightest twitch of a smile gracing the corner of his lips as he tilted his head towards her. “Though by then it’ll be too late I guess.” He shrugged lightly, his arm reflexively tightening around her, perhaps with the intent to comfort her uncertainties.

“That’s… kind of the point of my question.”

“You regretting this already?” While the question could have been misconstrued as accusatory, Scott’s expression was anything but, like he was waiting for her own answer before deciding if that’s how _he_ was feeling. “We haven’t even left yet!”

“I…. honestly don’t know.” Sara admitted, feeling at a loss. Then, finality struck her, a monumental truth settling over her heart like a heavy weight as she took a breath. “I’m scared… I guess.”

“Me too…” Scott said quietly. It had been a long time since she’d heard him sound so reserved, as he didn’t generally let that sort of emotion show through. “There’s a lot to be afraid of.” His other hand ran through his messy dark hair, tousling it further than its usual unruliness.

“Dying, for one thing—” Sara clicked her tongue in annoyance, lifting her hand to smooth down the stray fragments of hair Scott had left sticking up at odd angles. He would normally have ducked away from her offensive attempts to fix his appearance, but this time he didn’t bother. Perhaps now was not the time for playful acts of sibling revulsion. 

“We’re not going to _die_ , Sara,” Scott mused, though there was a tension on his jawline that told her he was trying to mask the real possibility behind her statement with flippant confidence. “We’ll be fine. Besides, this galaxy is so _been there, done that_ , right? There’s nothing _new_ here.”

“But it’s familiar, and comfortable, and we know what to expect…” Sara looked back out the viewport, at their own homeworld in it’s developed, inhabited glory; her statement was stupid, she knew that. She also understood what Scott was getting at: there were no frontiers here anymore, and it felt like there wasn’t really much left to discover. That wasn’t… entirely true, as the Milky Way was a big place, and there were still plenty of planets that had mysteries left to be unveiled. They hadn’t even really begun to fully explore all the Prothean remains that had been identified, so there were still questions just waiting to be answered. She’d spent almost her entire life studying what the Protheans had left behind, hypothesizing what it revealed about _who they were_ and _why_ they did what they did, cataloging everything that they knew so that they could better understand what it meant for their own lives. It had become routine, and almost familiar, to the point that maybe it had become… mundane. They hadn’t really come across any new revelations in some time, so it was possible they had finally hit that metaphorical wall.

Maybe that was why she was jumping galaxies after all. She was… uninspired, but, emotionally reluctant to admit that she was willing to risk everything and jump into the unknown for something _new_. The controversy surrounding her family name now certainly hadn’t helped.

“Think of what we could find though. You should be excited by the possibility of a brand new civilization just waiting to have their bones be dug up…” It was unlikely. The Initiative had looked for exactly that and found nothing, so, was she really holding out hope for the impossible odds that they had missed something? Scott seemed to think it was worth the risk. “I mean, how would a new galaxy impact their lives? That’s what you live for, right?” Reluctantly, Sara admitted, that it truly was fascinating to consider from an anthropological standpoint how an entirely different species would be shaped by another galaxy. How Andromeda’s unique pressures would impose differing evolutionary demands on not only themselves when they arrived, but on whatever life existed there—if any at all—was _really_ what had drawn her to it in the first place, so why was she suddenly so reluctant now that the time had come?

“We found no evidence of any previous inhabitants...” There was the stubborn, tricky fact that the evidence to support her initial intrigue just didn’t exist. Sara knew she was splitting hairs and being obnoxiously pedantic, but that wasn’t entirely in her control anymore. Scott thankfully took it in stride.

“No _civilized_ life.” Scott corrected. Of course, there was native flora, and very likely fauna to go with it. There just hadn’t been any sign of development from anyone more advanced. “Besides, that doesn’t mean there isn’t something there we can’t see.” In truth, he was right. The Initiative had limited abilities with regard to what they could view, despite the monumental scientific know-how it took to even get the images they had. Even with all the Geth enhancements, they really only had glimpses of what Heleus had waiting for them. It was enough to make educated guesses as to what was there and what could potentially support them, but who knew what could be hidden in the blind-spots.

There were at least, no _active_ civilizations that could be detected. The Geth technology had allowed them to image as close to real-time as possible despite the distance from here to Andromeda, and they had monitored the system over intervals to track any changes over time. There had been no sign of intelligent, sentient life that would already have claim to any of the habitat worlds. That didn’t mean there wasn’t something that they couldn’t see, tucked away and forgotten for who knew how long, waiting to be found.

Maybe, it was the likelihood that there would be nothing, that she was _really_ afraid of.

“I’m just… scared. I don’t know why.” Sara finally offered, unsure of what else to say. There was plenty to be scared of, but there was also plenty to look forward to. Something had drawn her to this venture in the first place, and she couldn’t lose sight of that, even if it seemed like a one in a billion shot.

“I know,” Scott answered, his voice quiet. “I am too. But we’ll be together.” They stood there with each other for moments, quiet as they watched Earth turn in her own pre-determined spin—constant, and reliable. They would need that on the other side, because it was possible that very little would be reliable… or predictable by the time they woke up.

“Kids? It’s time.” Alec’s voice interrupted their silent reflection, as he called to them from across the way. Even though they were adults now, he still thought of them as children. He sounded calm, and far more collected than he really had any right to be, very soon going to sleep for 600 years. Sara knew she should have taken comfort in their father’s confidence. They couldn’t, not when they never really felt close enough to him to _trust_ his resolve as he heralded the inevitable. It was time to say goodbye. 

Sara inhaled a shaky, uncertain breath, looking to Scott with a pained expression as he offered her an encouraging smile. Now that the time had come, she could feel her anxieties and fear begin to return as a squirming discomfort settled in her gut. “Ready?” Her brother asked, squeezing her shoulder one more time before letting go. Somehow, Sara managed a nod, knowing that underneath it all that she really wasn’t ready in the slightest.

Heart pounding, Sara turned to look at their father as Scott placed an encouraging hand between her shoulders. She felt queasy, her stomach turning in uncomfortable flutters of movement. Perhaps, he was preventing her from making an escape, that he knew she was considering deep-down. There was no going back now, she knew that, but it didn’t stop the thought from being tempting. Alec now stood alone several paces away, his face stony and resilient, but it did nothing to reassure her that this wasn’t going to be a monumental disaster. It wasn’t until she felt Scott push her gently forward that she realized she wasn’t moving.

“Wait—” Sara blurted, whirling around one last time. She didn’t care what it may have looked like to Alec, wanting only to make this final moment count. “I want to take one more photo. I need to remember what it looked like the last time we saw it.” Lifting her arm and activating her Omni-tool’s camera function, she centered the image of Earth in the middle of the holographic frame, her finger hovering above the capture button for a moment. It had to be now—there were no more excuses or reasons to stall for time. This was happening whether she wanted it to or not, and there was no going back.

She pressed the button, her finger sliding against the haptic interface as the image on her Omni-tool locked into place and saved into her archives, memorializing how Earth stood in that very moment before she turned her back on it for the last time.

“Alright,” Sara said, more to Scott than anyone else as he watched her patiently with a soft look of understanding in his eyes. “Let’s go.” She turned, but not before saying a silent goodbye to the planet of her ancestors in her own heart. She didn’t believe that anyone would be listening, but it felt good to say it anyway. It helped to encourage her to walk side-by-side with her brother, to where their father was waiting. Alec nodded before abruptly turning on his heels, not letting anything show on his face that would be construed as a reaction to what Sara had just done. She supposed she should be thankful he hadn’t grimaced or scolded her, like she was a _child_ that needed a dose of cruel reality, but that was probably giving him too much credit. She’d probably hear about it later when it was convenient for him, how her whimsical romanticizing was only going to hold her back.

Somehow, Sara managed to move her legs. One step, two steps, three—she walked outside of her own will, like she was looking down on herself from the outside. Perhaps it was Scott walking next to her that kept her moving, his own assured steps acting as a confidence booster to her own motor functions. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it was going to burst right out of her chest, and it almost _did_ as they finally walked into the cryo intake room. It was on the opposite end of the Hyperion from where they would wake, this section looking like less of a medical ward, and more like a scientific laboratory, with an ever-shrinking row of cryo pods lining the floor against the walls waiting to be filled. Once they were induced, powerful hydraulic arms would scoop up the pods with their bodies inside, to pull them through long, narrow tubes into cavernous stasis containment chambers. The AI systems on the ship would sort and deposit the cryo pods based on a predetermined hierarchy of importance: you would wake up based on how “mission critical” you were, and the Pathfinder team would be one of the first. They would be packed in like sardines, layers and rows, of sleeping colonists waiting for their turn to be revived in a new galaxy. It was so clinical and impersonal.

That didn’t exactly bode warm feelings and comfort as they followed Alec to the end of the long, rectangular room, where an asari waited with a cluster of pods to be filled—their pods to be exact. It was hard to forget the one asari doctor that was assigned to the Hyperion, so Sara already remembered her name before it was spoken.

“Dr. T’Perro is going to get you guys off to sleep.” Alec said, no pretense or finesse, just right to the point as he waved a hand in the asari’s general direction. To _sleep_ , certainly seemed like such a harmless way to put it, Sara thought, as she took in the doctor’s general demeanor. As with all asari, straight-posture and standing with a serene sense of poise, her pale blue, dappled skin almost sparkled in the bright fluorescent lighting of the room. Like, an angel of death truly sending her to an execution… 

“Sara and Scott Ryder?” The asari— _Lexi_ , Sara remembered— said finally, accented voice incredibly soft and kind as she looked up at the pair standing before them. It was almost comforting, the gentle bedside-manner accentuated to the extreme in these circumstances, even though Sara remembered her having the same calm temperament in all their previous interactions. Asari were known for generally having an air of self-assured, almost spiritual level of confidence and grace, which often had the effect of putting off non-asari with the interpretation that it was an expression of superiority. Sara didn’t particularly feel that way on her own, actually finding it a bit comforting to see Dr. T’Perro pay no attention to their father’s rather abrupt, unconcerned way of describing the fact that they were about to force their bodies into a state teetering near death. “You two are some of the last, so let’s get you both settled in…” She made a few more marks on the datapad she was holding before setting it down on the upper edge of one of the cryopods. “Sara, are you ready?”

_Shit_ —No, she wasn’t ready, as she jumped with a start and a flare of tingling fear that made her extremities start to go numb. Part of her had been hoping that she wouldn’t go first, but she didn’t know if she’d be able to stomach watching Scott getting put under before her. Dr. T’Perro was gesturing to the cryopod nearest to her feet, shiny white and gray with offsets of blue as if that would somehow make it more cheerful. The only thing Sara could think about was how much it resembled a coffin: a technologically advanced, highly manufactured coffin. 

At least this way she was getting it over with…

Turning to Scott, she threw her arms around him, unable to stop the impulse to hold her brother one last time. He fell into her embrace immediately and without hesitation, like it was a practiced habit that they had perfected over the years with no other real parental affection to sustain them. Scott knew exactly what she was going through, holding her tightly with locked arms as she buried her face into his neck. Breathing him in, she was committing his strong, clean scent to memory so that she could carry it with her to that dreamless sleep. He was laughing, quietly, and it was hard to tell if there were tears in his eyes as he kissed the top of her head. To hell with what Alec would think of this display of affection—he’d never gone out of his way to show them any sort of warmth, and had generally seemed uncomfortable with it, especially in public. They’d learned early on as children not to bother asking dad for a hug, because he wouldn’t do it. 

“I don’t want to let go…” Scott mumbled against her ear—Such a surprising statement amongst all his confidence and lackadaisical bravado and it made Sara gasp as her eyes started to sting with tears.

“I don’t either…” But, Sara had to. Grimacing, she held back the tears and let go, impulsively flattening down the front of Scott’s Initiative-issue cryosuit. “See you when we get there…” Her eyes caught his, searching for the same reluctance and fear that was mirrored in her own, and it was _there_ —hidden underneath the dark depths of his worried glance as his eyes locked in with hers.

“Try not to sleep through your alarm.”

Sara barked out a laugh. “I should be telling you that…” It helped, a little bit, but her heart was still thudding in her chest as if it was trying to break free. Taking a breath, she nodded to him, turning on her heels to face her fate. “Okay, let’s do this.” Taking a step forward, she found herself next to Alec. There wasn’t any real trace of feeling on his face, like he hadn’t even been paying attention to his own children saying goodbye. He was probably repressing it, ignoring the fact that they were doing the unthinkable just to chase him across the universe to try and salvage what was left of their family. He probably didn’t even _realize_ it was a thing at all, that tone-deaf to the needs of his own flesh and blood. 

“See you on the other side, kiddo,” The slight, shifting smile on his face looked foreign and uncomfortable; it looked forced, and the endearment was misleading. It was maybe Alec’s one pale attempt at being affectionate with her in the midst of her clear unease, but it didn’t help Sara’s concerns any. She offered him a weak smile and a nod in return, stepping forward with her back towards them so that Dr. T’Perro could prep her for cryosleep.

The doctor was giving her a soft, understanding look, the kind of expression that _should_ have been on her father’s face, but was noticeably absent. It would have helped some, except for the fact that at her feet was the cryopod where Sara would sleep across dark space, and that cold fear settled in her gut all over again. She thought her heart was going to jump out of her throat as her pulse pounded in her ears, forcing herself to step up to the cryopod with slow, deliberate steps.

At some point the doctor’s hand was on her shoulder, a comforting, warm weight out of nowhere to break Sara out of her mute staring contest with the cryopod that sat open waiting for her. The padded, plush interior was lined with tubing and internal monitoring equipment—who was even going to be looking at that? What good would it do her if she woke up too early to look at her own vitals? There was a string of small, LED lights that also lined the interior as well, so Sara supposed she would at least have a decent night-light while she slept. All she needed now was to throw up right into it, which was becoming more and more of a possibility as she continued to stare at the interior like it was a hole that was about to swallow her up. 

“You remember how this works, right?” Dr. T’Perro finally spoke, hand never leaving Sara’s shoulder as she nodded. They’d already had a number of crash-course rundowns on how the cryo process actually functioned: they weren’t truly _frozen_ , more like, a chemically induced stasis that “froze” the metabolic processes to give off the impression of being in a stasis state. They would essentially wake up in Andromeda not a day older, despite the fact that over 600 standard years will have passed.

“Kind of feels like you’re preparing me for my own funeral…” Sara coughed, unwilling to laugh at her own joke, because it felt a little too accurate. Swinging one leg into the open cryopod, she somehow managed to urge the other leg to follow as she sunk down in the relatively comfortable, plush interior in one hurried motion. If she hesitated, she would start thinking too much about what she was doing and how much she wanted to stop. At least she’d be comfortable, despite being unable to really enjoy it. Looking forward at Scott, he flashed her a grin and thumbs up, which she returned with a nervous smile. It helped to distract her from the fact that Dr. T’Perro had taken her arm and was swabbing her skin with an antiseptic medigel to prep her for an injection—a slow-release muscle stimulant that would prevent atrophy during the long sleep. The cryopods internal ventilation cycle would maintain the gas-induced chemical stasis, fed from The Hyperion’s cryogenic control systems once the pod was deposited into its resting place. All of which, was controlled completely by a preset algorithm that would be monitored by the Hyperion’s SAM AI system. Whether or not she stayed asleep from the delicately balanced chemical cocktail she would be inhaling was literally being controlled by an artificial mind. In this, she had no choice but to trust that Alec had truly put enough safeguards in place to make sure it didn’t go rogue.

Her and Scott had always had a bit of an ability to communicate without words, able to exchange a number of complex emotions and responses with just their expressions alone. It had been a necessity, to avoid instigating Alec’s anger or Ellen’s inevitable compliance, to warn or soothe each other when needed. They were doing that now, telling each other that it was going to be alright, and if by some chance it wasn’t… _they_ were alright.

Complying with the subtle, benign urgings of Dr. T’Perro as she held her hand, Sara took in a deep breath as was requested, and tried not to look as the small _pinch_ of the needle went into the deep vein on her wrist. That part was over, and there was only one thing left as she was gently pushed to lean back into the cryopod, her vision tunneling as the curved edges surrounded her. Staring up at the ceiling, the glare from the lights made the corners of her eyes prickle and water. Or, maybe that was just the tears, that she had to furiously blink away as Dr T’Perro’s face came into view over the crest of the pod. She was patting Sara’s hand, one of which she only just realized was still clinging to the edge as if she would drown if she let go. 

Sheepishly, Sara let her hands fall, resting them awkwardly at her sides. The whole arrangement didn’t feel like a normal way to sleep, but in order to facilitate regular blood flow and prevent joint displacement, it was the most effective positioning they had been trained on.

The cryopod began to hum, and the door whirred as it closed down on her, the sound loud and all-encompassing against Sara’s ears as it began to thrum with life around her. A quiet hiss began to fill the interior as the ventilation system began to kick in, and Sara knew that an odorless gas was now seeping in. For a moment she started to panic, her breath gasping as her heart began to pound in fear. A reaction that was likely being monitored by Lexi, and her father and Scott on the outside, though she had no mind to be humiliated. Ironically, her labored breath had the intended effect of making her inhale the stasis more quickly, her chest beginning to slow to a more even rhythm as her breathing relaxed—outside of her own control, which encouraged a special kind of fear as if she was no longer the master of her own body. The reaction was anticipated, and widely discussed during training, so the doctors were trained to handle the anxiety response effectively, though that didn’t stop Sara’s internal alarms from blaring.

“Sara I want you to count backwards from ten,” Dr. T’Perro said, her voice slightly muffled, looking down at her from above as the hand just out of her line of sight moved against a control panel inlaid on the pod itself. Sara nodded, the action jerky despite the relative calm that had settled over her, knowing that this was exactly how this was supposed go. That somehow… calmed her. She felt... better, knowing that this was all part of the process, she wasn’t about to die from the stress... and she could relax. Maybe now that it was happening the worst was over, and all she had to do was relinquish control…

Closing her eyes, Sara took in a breath, quieting her mind to focus only on the numbers. She didn’t make it past six. 

***

_Five…_

The noises were different. Muffled now. 

_Four…_

A groan, the voices were becoming distracting, making it hard to concentrate on counting. She just wanted to get this over with and go to _sleep._

_...Four...wait—that’s not…_

Sara tried to open her eyes. It had suddenly gotten very bright behind her eyelids, like someone had turned up the lights in Intake, and her stomach was starting to ache. That wasn’t supposed happen, right? She was confused. Who was talking? It didn’t sound like Alec or Scott… 

Her eyes felt heavy, but through the bleary haze she managed to pry open her gummy lids to a crack. Anything more felt like a monumental effort suddenly. It seemed hazy, like a fine mist had enveloped everything with a layer of opaque damp. Sara had only just closed her eyes a moment ago, but suddenly there was an impulsive need to open them all the way. They just weren’t responding how she wanted, like two dead weights—and why was her face cold? It was like there was a breeze hitting her skin... 

_Am I supposed to still be counting—who is that—what is that—_

There was a distant _boom_ somewhere off in the distance, but it was hard to pinpoint where it had come from within the bowels of the ark. What followed was the sound of grinding metal, the pod rattling as if the Hyperion itself was shaking, and suddenly some of the voices Sara hadn’t been able to identify came into focus. 

And what was that smell? It smelled like bleach… and moisture—somehow—like a gaseous chemical that somehow registered as _wet _to her senses with an afternote of burning electricals...like… _fire._ She didn’t remember the cryo intake smelling quite like that a moment ago, or feeling so damp, so...__

__“Shit...that one—” Who _was that?_ Sara didn’t recognize the woman talking. Who had come into the room? “I hope we don’t—” Whoever was talking wasn’t making sense, their words fractured as if Sara’s ears were coming in and out like a radio being tuned to the right dial. “—close one—”_ _

_Is that burning? Is something burning? What happened—SHIT!_

__Sara surged forward, somehow finding the strength of body to bend at the waist and gasp out loud as she finally forced her eyes all the way open—immediately regretting the action as a deep, sudden pain bloomed within her skull. She forced them closed again, flopping forward weakly as a sudden assault of nausea bubbled within her gut, the realization that she was making a fool of herself trying to go into cryo making her want to retch right there on the floor. Her head swam, and she had to hold onto the side of the surface she’d been laying on to keep herself from falling over._ _

Why was she looking at the floor? _Where did my cryopod go?_

__“Sara Ryder. Pathfinder team” It took a moment for Sara to finally realize people were talking to her. It wasn’t Dr. T’Perro, but it was someone else. Holding her gut, Sara felt her body sway as she tried to right herself and find the source of the voice. Blinking heavily, two people stood before her, in a room she did not recognize. She was laying on a long table, surrounded by cryopods and cold, tendrils of mist swirling around her like a fog creeping along the ground. She was in the cryobay, in another part of the ship. Somewhere in the distance Sara could hear the faint klaxon of alarms going off elsewhere on the Hyperion. That could only mean—_ _

__“Rise and shine sleepyhead. A new dawn in Andromeda awaits…” The other person, a man Sara didn’t recognize said, scanning her with a tool in his hand as his companion—probably the first person who had been speaking—was tapping away on the datapad in her hand. “...Or, something like that I guess. We kind of stuck the landing, but still in one piece.”_ _

__Sara’s thoughts were only just starting to right themselves and fall into line, her fractured, scattered memories of what had happened minutes before—no, _shit,_ it was… _600 years ago_ —as she finally started to process what was said to her. _Andromda_. She felt like she’d only just closed her eyes, Dr. T’Perro’s final request for her to count feeling so fresh on her mind like it had just happened. But, it hadn’t. She’d gone into cryo, and it had _worked_. They were on the other side._ _

__Sara took a breath, looking around, the nausea somewhat abated, but the disbelief still hovering over her like a cloud; they had really traveled millions of lightyears in suspended animation en masse, but she still needed to confirm it._ _

__“We...made it?”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't clear again, this was a flashback! Surprise!
> 
> I just felt really compelled to imagine what those final moments would have been like: a huge, conflicting weight of fear, doubt, and uncertainty, almost overshadowing the excitement, making you forget why you were making such a decision in the first place.
> 
> Also, the codex in the game may have described the cryo process, but I honestly don't remember. Apologies if it's not completely accurate, but I honestly felt no compulsion to dig through the codex to find it. It is what it is!


	18. Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little tender exploration, and finally, Sara doesn't avert her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory shout out to everyone who continues to comment and stick with this after so many weeks between chapters! I don't always respond to every comment but it's most appreciated! I had been hoping to update more regularly, but it's still a bit slower than I expected. I have various other writing projects I'm also trying to work on simultaneously, so between that and real life I'm just a bit slow.

It was clear that their time in Hydroponics was over, once Sara made the decision to throw a wrench into their lunch date by getting Jaal’s romantic hackles up. That wasn’t particularly difficult, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t goaded her along almost the entire time they’d been there, so she’d only been responding appropriately. If Jaal’s open expressiveness was any indication, he was keen to follow her suggestion, and was probably about to lose it had they stayed longer. 

Walking back through the Nexus proper was an exercise in restraint, but they weaved through the diverse traffic of Initiative and angara alike with purposeful ease. Sara could feel Jaal’s eagerness hovering around him in slow pulses of heat and energy, like a cloud of warmth pulsating in time with an excited heart. Every day she was getting more aware of _sensing_ him, his facial expressions and body language making it that much easier to make an educated guess as to what each little shift in the air around him meant. Right now, Sara predicted that Jaal wanted his hands on her in a big way, and so far her instincts had more or less been accurate. If only she could sense him properly. It would never happen that way, but there was still something seductive in what she _could_ manage to feel. 

The two of them had somehow managed to walk back at a reasonable pace, all the while throwing very serious and urgent glances at each other. Had anyone been following them with their eyes, they would have just seen a pair in a serious rush, but Sara had the sneaky feeling that angara were probably more attuned to what was happening between them than she realized. None of them reacted in any particular way, either because it was normal and they wouldn’t give it a second thought, or didn’t dare to given the cultural significance of where it was coming from. The fact that the two of them hadn’t broken into a sprint, or Jaal hadn’t outright picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder was some kind of miracle. Though that would have been quite the alarming sight to observers who would not have understood what was going on. Jaal wouldn’t _do_ that—at least, Sara didn’t think he would—because he probably knew that would have been more careless than they were aiming to be for the time being.

Upon arriving back at the Tempest however, they managed to not stumble into the Pathfinder quarters out of sheer urgency. The excitement was still thrumming through both of them, finally touching hands as they approached the magnetic door to her room. It was like Sara had accidentally brushed her hand against a live wire, feeling a quick, tingling _zap_ once her hand made contact with Jaal’s skin. Then all she felt was a soft, pleasant _thrum_ , a subtle vibration when his hand completely wrapped around hers, and a sudden, curious burst of warmth begin to simmer in the pit of her stomach. Once they were through her doors however, locked behind the solid metal wall and faced with the reality of their privacy, they took a more cautiously restrained approach to each other.

Jaal squeezed her hand before walking passed her to the long couch on the far end of her room, leading her towards him with just the tips of his fingers still hooked within her own. When he sat back against the seat, sinking into the cushions beneath his weight, he pulled her against him in the recognizable desire to draw her into his lap. 

Sara was _just_ stupid and in the throes of affection enough to comply. It was almost a little frightening how easy, and natural it was to simply melt against him, straddling his lap without any real care for where that could lead. He was so warm, the space around him somehow comforting and a presence in of itself that it was like a conscious tug drawing her in. It made it that much easier to toe that ever faltering line that Sara realized was getting harder and harder for them not to vault over…

Though, they managed to not immediately press their lips against each other—despite the urgent desire in both—and instead Jaal took a steading breath before drawing her forehead to rest against his. Sara naturally leaned into his touch against her cheek, where he was cradling her face as they shared soft breaths together. Jaal had probably been tearing himself apart internally from the necessity for distance the entire day, both from their time physically apart and their nearly failed attempt at being discreet while out on the Nexus proper. His sneaky, sometimes even blatant moves towards intimacy while in Hydroponics were evidence enough that his restraint was taxing on his craving for close contact with her. It was now manifesting in a desperate softness as his fingers eased through her hair, bringing her close to him with a tender reverence that made Sara flush with heat. She too, had missed this closeness, which was why she could fall into it so naturally, needing even this most basic shared affection as a release of her own. They remained this way for moments, simply content in the silence as Jaal’s face edged lower against her throat where he could plant a soft, suckling kiss against her pulse.

Sara laughed, the action breathy and quiet as she squirmed a little, reflexively, feeling Jaal smile against her skin. 

“Are you going to keep permanent marks on my neck?” Sara laughed softly, then squealing a little as Jaal dragged his tongue against her neck playfully in response. “That tickles!” He chuckled ruefully, a hand slipping around to the back of her neck where he pulsed his bioelectric affection down her spin, making her sigh wistfully as she finally eased into relaxation.

“No.” His face came into view and they locked eyes. “I will behave.” His mouth twitched; It was almost dangerous, what such a simple statement promised and it was exciting. Not _violence_ by any means of course, but a letting go of inhibitions and personal restraints that were beginning to bend under the strain of their mutually decided upon abstinence. For _now_. 

It was Sara’s turn to place her hands against his cheeks, running her thumbs against his skin as she let herself fall into his focused gaze. It felt like human skin. _Soft_ human skin, but it wasn’t. Sara still wasn’t sure how that was possible, galaxies apart—she was overthinking things and placing significance in places it probably didn’t belong, but she couldn’t help it. Looking into his eyes this way, so close and intimate, was so very _human_ to Sara, and the fact that it was so easy with Jaal was a wonder she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to explain. 

Turians did not easily share direct eye contact, and Sara had worked with enough turians at multiple dig sites to be very much a master of this norm. What she’d come to learn was that culturally, prolonged eye-contact was interpreted as a challenge, or an assertion of dominance. These social norms could be a little bit relaxed when in the company of those who you were bonded to, physically or emotionally, but it was generally a safer bet to play it safe unless you knew someone _really_ well. It was a popular theory amongst historians that the First Contact War could have ended much sooner had there not been such a major communication incompatibility between the two species. What amazing luck, that such a defining moment would have been altered so drastically, had the humans just looked at the floor during the first few unsuccessful attempts at reconciliation after both sides had already clashed. Sara could concede that the turians could have probably been more accommodating to an unknown culture with alien customs that had unwillingly blundered into them… but she wasn’t going to harbor any grudges over it. If it hadn’t have played out the way it had, the Destiny Ascension may have never intervened, and humanity wouldn’t have gained access to the entirety of the galaxy and its breadth of differing cultures.

Humans weren’t a monolith by any means on their own, but eye contact tended to be favorable, so eventually they had to collectively learn that _averting_ their eyes and focusing on a turian mouth was considered to be the most polite: You were focused on their words and placed value on what they were expressing. This was not the same for the asari, or salarians, or any of the other species—drell considered lack of eye contact to be a sign that you found them inferior, while the asari preferred brief periods of direct focus to be a true sign of warmth. Krogans were similar to turians, except for the fact that they would cave your skull in if you gave any indication that you expected submission. You had to make a krogan think compliance was their idea. People always struggled with keeping things straight, and these types of cultural misunderstandings were typically the number one cause of C-Sec intervention on the Citadel: minor squabbles born from unintentional disrespect. Outside of council space it could have meant death if you weren’t careful. 

The angara on the other hand, thrived on direct, _piercing_ eye contact, which had admittedly been a weird adjustment for Sara at first because she hadn’t been able to gauge their threat level. SAM had picked up on her mental questioning and uncertainty, and had quickly been able to read through bioscans that this type of focus was never accompanied by the usual indicators of increased agitation or aggression. It was the opposite in fact, in that the angara were typically neutral or relaxed. It had certainly taken a few interactions between her and Evfra to separate his abrasive, sometimes frustratingly arrogant manner of speaking from the hard, unwavering stare he would cast on her. There were other, more subtle clues to the underlying intent that Sara had slowly learned over time. It hadn’t helped that there was an entire, sensory communication method they were employing that she simply hadn’t been able to pick up on.

Even Jaal had started off life on the Tempest unnerving her and the rest of the crew with the way he would so narrowly focus his gaze on whichever person happened to be speaking. When she first met him at the steps on Aya he had not hesitated to stare directly into her soul despite never having met her. It had been hard for Sara at the time to not interpret it as anything more than the subtle dare to take a misstep—his words had done that surely, along with other body language indicators—but they had come very far from that moment. Jaal’s unending patience with them in the beginning when he’d first begun integrating had eased everyone into familial comfort eventually. 

Now, Jaal perhaps spoke volumes in the moments were he _didn’t_ hold eye contact. That was technically true for humans as well, and there were many things that were the same between them: shyness, shame, uncertainty and fear, but Sara was beginning to recognize the wordless gestures and sensations from Jaal that allowed her to tell the difference. Context and timing obviously mattered, and she would never have the real biological ability to communicate with him in that way, but she was learning.

Now, Jaal’s direct gaze was filled with unmistakable yearning. After a few moments of silence, their shared breathing and Jaal’s steady _thrum_ was unmistakable in meaning—like a tender connection of souls, and Sara felt a sudden perception of shame as she remembered the way she had reacted to his earlier unease. She frowned, feeling the need to speak on something that was nagging at her. “I’m sorry I teased you about the posters…” Her lopsided smile was uncertain as Jaal’s eyebrow raised in light-hearted inquiry. Hindsight told Sara that she had probably made the whole thing more dramatic than necessary, and possibly more of a discomfort for him than needed, which was the _wrong_ approach.

“Ah, darling one, it’s alright…” Jaal said, his brow relaxing as he smiled warmly, though it was slight. “I confess, it does bring me some enjoyment to think you may find them appealing to look at…”

“I’m trying to apologize here, and you’re making it hard,” Sara snarked. She squeezed at his cheeks gently, planting a kiss on the flat plane of his nose—she was finding that a convenient place to leave small affections, being the center of him, close to his lips should she want to travel further. It was intriguing since it differed so much from the much broader, raised bridge of her own nose, and it was quickly becoming another favorite part of him.

Sara also liked the way he reacted to it: the soft, appreciative hum that would escape Jaal as his nose twitched. He would smile, using the opportunity of closeness to steal a kiss of his own, just as he did then. Capturing her lips, he pulled her close with a hand braced at the back of her neck. It was soft and chaste, a soft breath easing against their connected lips to quickly part before the moment could intensify.

Sara sat back with a contented sigh, leaving a bit more breathing room between them as she flattened her palms down the length of his chest, fingers trailing over the buckles and straps of his armor. She managed to find her center and collect herself, until the air in her lungs jumped as Jaal’s hands traveled down the length of her back to rest just at the rise of her hips. Even through her shirt, Sara could feel the tingle of his charge as her spine arched reflexively, the sensation warm and pleasant as it left a slight buzz under the surface of her skin. 

Jaal was looking at her thoughtfully, his thumbs absently tracing circles on the bare skin of her back under the hem of her shirt. The action itself was almost anxious, like he was considering something as his head tilted sideways with a focused calm on his face. Sara’s reactions weren’t new to him, and he already knew she could slightly feel his bioelectric current—he’d known she would not experience it how an angara would, but he’d been surprised and pleased to learn she could feel anything at all. Now he just seemed _curious._

“I would like to try something,” Jaal finally said abruptly, his tone cautious and probing like he was about to ask something profound of her. His hands suddenly edged their way underneath her shirt to rest at the small of her back, pausing with attentiveness to her reaction positive or otherwise. Somehow Sara had managed to keep control of her reflexes, feeling only a shocking trill of pleasure race through her body at the feel of his palms against her bare back. His question though, was puzzling. Was he asking what she _thought_ he was asking?

Jaal’s brow twitched then, a careful smile on his lips as if he only just realized how his words could be interpreted before he finally clarified. “Ah—Not… that. Not _yet_.” He paused, his eyes lingering on Sara’s for a moment, before wandering down the line of her throat. _That_ lack of eye contact spoke pretty clearly its intent. “Though, it does require direct skin contact.”

“If you want me to take my shirt off, you just have to ask,” Sara replied sarcastically, taking the cue from Jaal’s shifting expression that it was indeed what he wanted her to do. She moved her hands to gather the bottom hem of her shirt, lifting it passed her navel—then immediately paused, her spontaneously cavalier attitude about the request vanishing as quickly as her confidence. Jaal had never… seen her without clothing in this manner. A slow boil of heat crawled up her throat and through her cheeks at the very thought of exposing her bare chest to him, especially now, of all times while she was straddling his lap considering what that already implied. Given their closeness in that moment, he wasn’t exactly going to see much else, as his face may as well have been planted in her chest already.

But, what was she really afraid of? It wasn’t like they were strangers, it was going to happen inevitably, and she knew that Jaal didn’t necessarily view her breasts as anything other than curious, alien organs that angara didn’t share. He’d already shown curiosity of course, but more in the loving sense that _she_ considered them to be an intimate part of her that she would only share with him. He did not have the conditioned desire for them that a human might, which was a hurdle Sara was struggling to get over, but there would be no judgment. She wouldn’t be completely exposed to him anyway, assuming he didn’t mean for her to be _completely_ bare.

None of that mattered or should have been a roadblock for her. Jaal was her partner—her _lover_ , and it was time for her self-imposed modesty to take a back-seat. If anything she could look at it as evening the score, having seen him naked already, but that would be turning it into a contest that it wasn’t meant to be. Jaal didn’t think of it that way, because it was simply normal for him, but there was no denying that he found pleasure in viewing her body in an intimate context. He was already proving that he was interested and intrigued with her differences in a base, romantic way.

 _Maybe_ , that curiosity of her breasts had been tinged with a thread of eagerness, to coax out of her a sexual response through exploration. There was something in that startling difference between their two species that was exciting. That wasn’t what Jaal was asking for now. Sara admittedly wasn’t sure _what_ he was asking for, but knew that it was something different than just a chance to catch a peak. 

So, Sara removed her shirt, _slowly_. Not to draw out the process and make Jaal savor it, but because she was very aware of his eyes on her, feeling him still underneath her as the fabric lifted above her head. It seemed like his breath had even stopped, holding in his chest in anticipation for the reveal. That made her hesitate purely out of internalized uncertainty, but she was damn curious to see what Jaal had in mind.

Sara knew she was blushing, her cheeks flaming hot, as she gently deposited her shirt bashfully on the couch next to them. Eventually she managed to meet Jaal’s fiercely entrenched eyes, unable to avoid catching the way his glance dipped downwards for several, agonizingly long seconds as he drank her in—obviously he had looked at what she thought he would look at, but they were not exactly easy to avoid looking at from this angle. She felt incredibly aware of how her breasts were presenting to him, inanely wondering if her bra made them nice or just strange to look at, especially given that they were hovering about eye level with his face and that suddenly made her incredibly self-conscious.

Until Jaal’s warm little half-smile, filled only with fondness as he shifted beneath her, made her suddenly disarmed in the knowledge that he was only seeing her.

He made no further suggestion that Sara should remove anything else, perhaps allowing her that time to adjust to such a new development. “You are so pleasing to look at,” he said quietly, the pitch of his voice low and almost… awed as he affirmed his admiration for her strange, alien form. That certainly helped Sara relax and get comfortable, knowing that he wasn’t judging her in any way; frankly, she was a little turned on. “Though, if it helps—” Jaal removed his hands from her, hovering at the clasps of his armor in clear suggestion. “—I can join you in a similar state of undress. For this thing I want to try.” His last addendum was almost an afterthought as if clarification was needed.

“I won’t stop you.” Sara said, not even realizing the words had come out of her mouth until after she’d gone silent. Her heart began to race, and this was getting so, _so_ familiar that it was starting to feel instinctive. “I can… help you with that.” Again, the words fell out of her mouth as if it had a mind of its own, though, Jaal didn’t particularly hesitate in accepting the offer. 

“Yes,” he blurted, and it surprised even him because his brow twitched with a start, his mouth quirked in amusement at his own hastiness. He’d grasped both of her hands, which had fallen on her thighs in a clear sign that he was going to show her how to undo the various clasps that held his armor in place. This was necessary, considering Sara had no idea how to get him _out_ of his armor to begin with. 

The following moments went by in a blur: Sara followed Jaal’s gestures and prompts to undo all the various fasteners that held the different parts of his upper-armor in place. Once she began to follow his movements it started to feel surprisingly familiar. Sara supposed there were only so many ways in the universe one could create a buckle or a fastener for clothing, so it became relatively straight-forward. There were surprisingly a lot of different pieces, somehow managing to all look seamless once it was all fitted and secure. Sara wasn’t sure how she was going to commit it all to memory, though she didn’t doubt there would be plenty of opportunities for practice in the near future…

Eventually Jaal shifted her, allowing him to tug at his gloves with his teeth, followed by shrugging out of the thin biosuit that fitted his body underneath all the disparate pieces of leather padding and armored plates. Once again, Sara was treated to the sight of his dappled, fuschia skin, and from this particular section of her couch under the centered light, she could clearly make out the speckled patterns of white and darker violet that patterned his shoulders and the ribbing of his chest; like freckles or birthmarks, they were so intricate and vibrantly contrasting that Sara found herself wanting to trace patterns between them to create the stars. She was focused on her fingers, emitting a small _ah_ once Jaal abruptly slid her up the length of his lap to lay against him.

It wasn’t until she felt the spread of his warm breath against her neck, a soft whisper of heat, that she realized how close they now were. Something had changed around him, a stirring in the air that felt like sparks and energy, like the oxygen molecules around them were singing the very praises that Sara could see mirrored in the depths of Jaal’s eyes. The moments that followed found them simply watching one another with measured breaths, Jaal’s eyes inky pools of black as he seemed to swallow her hole. It was _intense_ , but there was no discomfort, as Sara had grown so receptive of his steadfast displays of silent desire.

The transition was so seamless, that Sara didn’t even realize that Jaal had moved, his hands sliding fluidly up the span of her back. She _felt_ the change, the soft, tingling tug of warmth just under his palm that traveled upwards as he moved, following the path he took up to her shoulders. This sensation was different, unlike anything she’d ever felt from him before, but she immediately knew it was pleasurable and that she’d want to feel it again. It penetrated deep into her skin, traveling through her body parallel to his movements like her nerves were exposed bare. Where she was relaxed against his front was a connection like an entire conductor of the same sensation rushing straight into her core. It was _good_. Sara had always liked to be touched by her past partners, finding just the feeling of fingers sliding up her skin intensely pleasant; not even in a _sexual_ context normally, but _this_ was a clear, powerful signal of carnal interest and Sara wasn’t entirely sure how she knew that. The way the soft vibration sunk into her bones, radiating out through every nerve ending down to her very center, bluntly communicated a singular idea: lust. Like Jaal’s very essence was burrowing into her depths and melding with her very existence, a heady, pulsing reminder of his near-constant want for her.

Sara was losing track of time, now so focused on sliding her hands along the smooth dome of his head as she leaned into him. It was a pale attempt to return his attentions, even though she knew she couldn’t physically generate the same bioelectrical signal he was. Yet, his sudden moan of approval against her skin—at some point Jaal’s mouth had become firmly planted against the expanse of her before the curve of her breasts, just below her collarbone—as her fingers slipped into the concave edges of his crown was a clear declaration of pleasure. Sara hadn’t actually touched this curious space of him before, the soft, delicate folding of darker skin between the more rigid edges of his cowl. It was like running her hands against the gathered folds of a silken hem, velvety to the touch and mercurial under her passing fingertips. She was so transfixed, dipping with ease between these valleys that felt so intimate and yielding, yet unaware of her own growing arousal before it was almost too late. Jaal’s breath was suddenly labored and heavy against her chest.

“Ah—” Jaal voiced suddenly, not so much a protest, but a plea as he leaned away from her. Sara was still a little loopy from whatever he’d been doing with his hands and his current, feeling sort of hazy with lust. She had enough of her wits about her to pause in her actions as Jaal carefully gathered her hands in his. “—Darling one…” His cheeks were positively _burning_ with a blue flush, his throat jumping nervously with a shy chuckle as he brought her hands to his lips to plant a soft kiss.

“S-sorry about that,” Sara laughed breathlessly, able to read between the lines and figure out that she’d probably inadvertently just stumbled into an erogenous zone. “The texture of your skin there is...fascinating,” she admitted, feeling bashful herself to realize how turned on she was just from him touching her. But he hadn’t _just_ been touching her. “Whatever you were doing just then was pretty great…” She leaned into him naturally as his forehead came to hers, that universal sign of genuine angaran affection, and she could see the boastful little smile that he was trying to suppress.

“I was not sure you would be able to…” No longer needing to grasp her hands, he transferred his grip back to her hips, his thumbs once again edging gentle circles against her skin. Though this time there was a marked difference in the sensation, the notable penetrating warmth now absent. “...Understand my meaning.”

“Oh, I understood alright.” Sara took a heavy breath, shaky and rattled as she started to come down from her high. Yet, she could not resist the temptation to tease him a bit for good measure. “But I might need you to clarify it for me?” She posed it as a question, despite not intending for it to be. The nagging part of her brain, the tiny little voice deep down in the various folds of grey matter, was screaming at her to move on from the current topic. It was clear though that Jaal didn’t seem to notice, his breath warm as he exhaled heavily against her smile, a smile of his own edging its way across his lips again.

“It is… a declaration,” he rumbled, shifting her again so that she was seated more firmly against his pelvis. Sara thought—that alone was _quite_ the declaration just through subtext. His armor was still on below the waist, so all she felt was firm armor plates where one would have expected something else rather firm to also be. It was there alright; Jaal was _telling_ her it was there, in a rather blunt, unambiguous way that didn’t need additional dressing. His hands left her waist then, fingers trailing lightly up her arms sending goosebumps up their wake as Sara sighed wistfully. Jaal drank that in, taking her lips in his once more, perhaps to seal in his meaning with a tender tug. “It means…” or to gather a sense of assuredness, grounding himself as he captured her face firmly within soft hands, drawing her forehead once again against his. “...I intend to make love to you—like you are the center of the universe.”

Sara froze, a white hot flash of excitement and desire coursing through her at the raw, unbidden growl—soft, but determined—underneath his words, and for a moment she started to tremble. Surely he didn’t mean _now_ , but that didn’t stop her heart from beginning to race as a pang of heat settled low. He’d never really spoken about it that directly before, though she knew more subtly he was speaking of future intent. When Sara eased some distance between them, there was a shadow of disappointment and want that clouded his eyes underneath a resolved understanding.

Sighing, Sara smoothed her hands across his shoulders, trying to give Jaal a disarming smile in the process. “And I suppose if I were angara… I would be saying something back, wouldn’t I?” She couldn’t help but frown, knowing that there would always be this part of the equation missing. _She_ was not angara, and would never be able to reciprocate in such a way. If Jaal was missing out, he would be too polite to tell her, knowing how crushing it would be to find yourself a disappointment outside of your own control.

Jaal’s eyes shifted then, widening in sudden alarm as his mouth parted briefly, before a troubled frown graced his features. “Darling one…” His hand shifted to take one of hers from his shoulder, embracing it and holding it aloft between them like a treasure. “If you fear that I am… longing for something that is not there, it is unfounded.” His frown deepened, his eyes earnestly catching hers to impart such honesty that it almost made Sara regret saying anything, not wanting to place any undue burden on _him_. “I take pleasure in the new, and beautiful ways that we _can_ communicate our love…” He brought their entwined hands to his face, planting a small kiss on her fingertips without breaking the caring eye-contact they had found themselves locked in. 

And all Sara could do was throw herself around him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck to bury herself in his embrace, and Jaal responded immediately—eagerly to her need like he too had desired nothing more. 

***

The tone of the rest of the afternoon shifted, which had probably ended up being for the better. Sara’s sudden insecurity had taken the edge off of their racing desires, allowing them to course-correct and get themselves better under control. Jaal had clung to her as if he thought she would float away, and guilt fluttered through Sara’s mind when she saw the lines of tears staining his cheeks when they’d finally parted. She hadn’t even known he’d been crying, so overwhelmed with _feeling_ for her that it hurt profoundly to think that she’d successfully diverted their attention by cutting so deep. She hadn’t meant it that way of course, but couldn’t deny that it was something that had been on her mind.

Instead of dwelling, Sara kissed each cheek, the taste of his tears—salty, with just the slightest tinge of something sweet and not entirely different from human tears—burning the memory of this moment in her mind like a brand. All she could manage was a whispered _“I’m sorry,”_ as she peppered his flushed face with chaste, loving kisses. He warmed into a melt, and fell into her actions as they sealed such uncertainties away with these wordless assurances that neither were left wanting of something the other couldn’t provide.

Wanting to then change the mood, Sara suggested that they try for the language studies again, a thing of which Jaal was eager to jump into. First, they needed to get dressed, and Sara threw him a coy look as she finally peeled herself off of his lap to make her way across the room to her closet. Her basic, Initiative clothing wouldn’t do, so she settled on one of the large oversized shirts that had been set aside for such an occasion: lazy, comfortable, leisuring.

“You’re still in your armor…” Sara called from the inside of her closet as she fished around for the proper garbage-sack-like attire. “Do you want to change into something less… restrictive?” She questioned, finally peering up from the confines of her closet, unable to contain the smile as she thought of the nightly attire he had been donning in her room: ill-fitted, awkwardly proportioned human sweat pants, and she just couldn’t get over how damn _adorable_ he looked in them.

Jaal was still seated, watching her with eager curiosity. Whatever previous anguish he had felt vanished from his face, replaced only by fondness. He hadn’t appeared to have moved an inch, hands falling to his thighs where moments before he had been holding her.

“Do we intend to leave the room later?” Sara wasn’t quite sure if Jaal was genuinely asking her a question, or if he was proposing the likely probability that they in fact, would never leave.

“I mean, at some point we have to eat again, right?” Their meal from earlier wasn’t going to tie her over the rest of the day, and given Jaal’s size and what she assumed his needed caloric intake was, it probably wouldn’t keep him sated all day either.

Yet, she didn’t mind the prospect of staying locked in her room with him for the remainder of the day. The ship would likely remain empty for the most part, as the crew tended to favor their own personal apartments—yet another Pathfinder perk—when docked at the Nexus. It was something Sara had been allowed access to as well, but she had grown so accustomed to her Tempest accommodations that she hadn’t yet bothered to submit the final paperwork. The apartment remained reserved for her, so maybe now with Jaal in the mix the extra space wasn’t a bad idea…

“Your civvies from the other night are still here anyway, you can just put these on until we go to bed.” _Until we go to bed,_ Sara thought as she picked up the angaran clothing that had been neatly folded off to the side, realizing the implications behind such a statement being so comfortable. It had really only been a couple nights they had been sharing a bed together, but it already felt like complete normalcy to just expect it. 

When Sara held the clothing aloft, Jaal finally stood, the sight of his partially armor-clad form something of a hilarious novelty until he began to strip it off. Then, it became an incredibly interesting thing to watch, the way his hands worked down the line of his body to carefully undo each clasp and trapping. The straps that wrapped around his thighs were a particular delight, the pads of leather and mesh loosening around the muscle as his hands slid across them with ease. The securing straps being positioned so close to the center of his groin made it especially challenging to keep her thoughts from wandering, and it was at this point Sara began to instinctively avert her eyes… until she didn’t.

If Jaal felt any particular way about her watching him undress, he didn’t give much away except for the shimmer of pleasure in his eyes. He was taking notice of her focus, seemingly amused to see a fraction of her shyness had dissipated since the last time he had been in a state of partial or full undress because it signified another shift in their relationship. He seemed comfortable and natural in this state anyway, perhaps excited by Sara’s newfound boldness as he quite literally stood _naked_ before her now. And christ he was _beautiful_.

He was all muscle and fascinating proportion, almost glimmering in the soft Tempest lighting of her quarters as he stood there practically preening in her admiration. She had thought that the way he shimmered in the crew showers on a previous night had been a trick of the light, the moisture and steam in the air playing with the refraction properties of the room’s dim luminescence. In reality, he did almost seem to shimmer, but it didn’t seem _alive_ like an energy or a current passing over him, but rather a natural sheen to his skin that wasn’t readily apparent to her eyes up-close. Maybe that was a biological enhancement, like the vibrancy of male bird plumage to entice a female, but if the intent was to attract one to the entire body Sara was failing miserably at it. Her stunted human attention kept getting diverted, and she tried unsuccessfully to not stare at his lower half, where—mercifully, somewhat—any evidence of his previous state of arousal was now absent. There wasn’t much to really _see_ at the moment, but Sara still managed to wonder excitedly what it would be like to finally be able to coax him out of hiding—

Jaal was suddenly standing in front of her, hand out to accept his clothing that she still held, looking obscenely amused. “You did not avert your eyes, my love…” Sara hadn’t noticed him walk up to her. _That_ was potentially dangerous, and also mildly disappointing that she’d gotten too distracted to be aware that Jaal had even moved.

“No,” Sara answered frankly, mouth quirked. “Should I have?”

“No.”

Feeling a newfound comfort and confidence in the situation, they both got into a more appropriate state of dress and returned to her couch. The rest of the day found them with their translators off, Jaal somehow having the patience to teach her the most _basic_ level of his native dialect. Several hours later, once they both could not ignore their combined stomach growling from hunger, Sara had successfully learned a number of greetings in varying politeness and how to ask where the bathroom was. It was progress she supposed, and Jaal seemed overly proud of her so she would take the additional small victory.

In the morning it was finally time to meet with her second-in-command, as there was actually work to be done. Jaal had business with the ambassador that day, so he walked her to the Nexus docking port where they discreetly parted ways.

 _Ghost Storm_ had been a long time coming, or at least it had felt that way to Sara. From the bowels of the Archon’s flagship came a revelation—the learning of Meridian’s location—but that had fizzled out with the outright refusal of Tann and the Initiative leadership to even consider allowing the Pathfinder team anywhere near the kett infested coordinates. Unswayed, and refusing to admit defeat, Sara had known that they had a responsibility to do _something_ , but after her ordeal on the Archon’s ship she hadn’t been in any shape to do anything about it. Something good had come out of it at least, in the form of a different kind of revelation with Jaal, allowing her to form a bond with him that was beyond anything Sara could have imagined before she departed for this new galaxy. 

During her recovery she’d had the opportunity to send Cora in her stead, and she had been at it for some time; a clandestine meeting of the minds with the other Pathfinders, and a few of the Initiative’s leading scientists. Cora’s message to Sara on the matter had been slim with regard to the details of what she would actually be seeing that day. Whatever _it_ was, it was finally ready to be implemented: some kind of new tech from what she could tell, but she would know exactly how it solved the Meridian problem tomorrow. 

By the time Sara made her way to the science labs, nestled in an alcove above the main plaza outside their current docking bay, she was filled with questions and a number of concerns. More pressing of which, the hope that whatever they had come up with would actually _get_ them to Meridian in the first place.

Meridian itself wasn’t so much the problem, it was the kett blockade that they had already learned was there, and according to their scout reports, had been there for some time. It was why Tann was so adamant that Meridian was too much of a risk, and really, he wasn’t _wrong_. Surrounded by kett, it was a minefield waiting to explode, and very likely anything they threw at it was doomed to get vaporized because their adversaries had the advantage of time. The irony of this: all of this time, hadn’t apparently amounted to anything, as the Archon clearly didn’t actually know what to _do_ with Meridian yet. Despite their ignorance, the kett had still managed to successfully dig-in like a metaphorical tick, setting up a massive blockade around the location in order to maintain control, if only out of principle and to keep it away from the angara, and the Initiative. 

In a very obvious, yet disheartening way, this was why the Archon had been trying so hard to get at Sara in particular, because so far she had proven that she could navigate around all the Remnant safeguards. With _SAM_ of course, and now that the Archon _knew_ that, it made things vastly more dangerous. If the Archon managed to get at SAM, likely killing Sara in the process, there was no telling what he could do with the whole system, able to bring all of the angara, and the Initiative to their knees.

Cora’s message had merely communicated this was the thread they had followed to find a solution, but contained all the depth and substance of something that had been written in a massive hurry. Sara spent the majority of the morning into the early afternoon getting briefed on what was happening. _Ghost Storm_ as it turned out, was some form of stealth tech that would trick the kett sensors long enough to allow Initiative ships to pass them. That was how it was _supposed_ to work at least, and the Tempest was volunteered to be the first beta test, but the other Pathfinder ships would follow suit to provide assistance. Quite simply it would give them the element of surprise, and if it all went according to plan, the Tempest team would be able to make landfall on whatever Meridian was.

It was going to take a greater part of the week for Gil to install the necessary hardware and coding to get it functioning, so Sara sent him a quick text-based message letting him know he was about to be _very_ busy—to which he responded with a _**D:**_ and no further comment. She hadn’t had much else to do after her meeting other than go over some of the tech notes the scientists had sent her, most of which she didn’t understand, but she needed something to do on the shuttle back to the Hyperion.  
The other thing Sara had decided that morning, was that she was going to tell Scott about Jaal. There was no sense in putting it off, and it gave her brother more time to get comfortable with the idea before meeting him in what was probably going to be a few days.

Scott already seemed alert and back to his old spirits, the messages Sara had been exchanging with him back and forth the night before and throughout the morning were evidence of the stasis taking nothing of his sarcasm away. Physically, he was clearly up and moving, considering the fact that he was nowhere to be found in the medbay by the time Sara walked in. At first a thread of alarm moved through her at the prospect that something had happened to him in the space of a couple hours, and that he’d been rushed into surgery. Or worse. 

That was short-lived when she heard his voice somewhere in the room off to the side, which looked like an adjoining space for activities for those recovering. It was a physical therapy room, Sara realized, as she walked in to find her brother sitting on the end of bench, clearly having just been lifting weights as he toweled sweat off his face. A quick glance told Sara it wasn’t quite the weight she knew he was capable of, far from it actually (which probably pissed him off) but the point of this was not to be beefing up. A nursing assistant stood near him, possibly the one he’d just been shouting at when Sara was in the other room. They were clearly glad for a reason to remove themselves from the situation, nodding stiffly to her when she approached before walking away.

“Really Scott, am I bench-pressing more than you now?” Sara still couldn’t resist teasing him, striding up to Scott with a spring in her step as he looked at her sideways with a grimace of feigned disgust. He may not allow a nurse to give him a hard time, but she certainly wouldn’t shy away from it.

“Fuck, it’s you? They really let anyone in here don’t they…” He said, tossing the towel at her as a form of rebuke, which she let fall sadly to the ground at her feet. He graced her with a smile then, eyes warming to indicate he wasn’t serious as he waved her over to the bench.

“Pathfinder privilege. I go where I want.” Sara sat comfortably next to him, the faint smell of sweat hitting her senses, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was another welcome indicator that Scott was _alive_ , and she would take it, listening intently to his breathing that was still a bit labored from his workout. “You look a lot better today…” She remarked, leaning forward to get a better look at Scott’s face. He still looked thin—that wasn’t really going to resolve itself within a day but there was color back on his cheeks that had been noticeably absent when she saw him last. His eyes were more alert, and focused, and had regained some of their sparkle back. She could see it when he turned them on her, a fleeting look of annoyance passing over his face before settling on determined resolve.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do…” Scott frowned, dragging the previously misappropriated towel back towards him on the ground with his shoe, before scooping it back up. “But I have to do it if I have any chance of getting out of here. I’ve graduated to solid food ahead of schedule, much to my stomach’s immediate displeasure.”

“Spare me the details,” Sara scoffed. “I would have come sooner this morning… but Pathfinder duties called.” She frowned, following Scott’s movements as he draped the towel around his shoulders.

“Top secret, huh?” If Scott was particularly resentful about this—not towards her, but to his situation—she didn’t really blame him. She would have hated to be in his position, waking up late in a new world to find that so much had passed you by while your sibling had risked life and death in your absence. If anything, she knew that her brother would have wanted to _be there_ for her.

“I’ll tell you later. Suffice to say you might be joining us right when things get real exciting,” Sara mused, noting the way Scott’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “That’s not why I came to talk to you actually.” Scott paused then, and she sensed apprehension in the way he stilled his shoulders as if he was waiting for _more_ bad news that his sister had been hiding from him. “It’s not a big deal but I didn’t think yesterday was the right time to tell you,” Sara added, hoping to assuage any concerns. “In fact, it’s really not a big deal at all, but seeing as you’ll be traveling with us I’d rather you found out about him now.”

The cat was _sort of_ out of the bag now, and Scott was immediately alert and interested.

“ _Him_ , huh? You’re really not wasting any time.” He shifted so that he was facing her fully, giving her the facial approximation of feigned surprise, despite the fact that he was anything but. 

“Geezes, Scott. Don’t be weird about this.” Sara wrinkled her nose. “I think he’s nervous to meet you, so I thought in a couple days when you’re up on your feet you can come on the ship, meet the crew…” Sara paused, considering her next words carefully, really, _really_ unsure why she was being so coy about the whole thing.

“What on earth would make _him_ nervous about meeting me?” Scott deadpanned, taking great care to accentuate the lack of name she had yet to disclose, like he was picking up on her hesitation. She didn’t particularly want to just spit out that it was _Jaal_ she was talking about without any sort of context. 

“He wants to make a good impression. Family is everything…” Sara began to explain, realizing her source of hesitation really stemmed from how much she loved Jaal, and how much this needed to _work_. Whether intentional or not, Scott had always had a knack for making things unbearable with the men in her life, which admittedly was not really the healthiest part of their familial relationship. She wanted this to truly be the beginning of the beautiful new narrative they had left the Milky Way for to begin with. That included this treasured exploration with Jaal, without outside forces trying to muck it up. “...to an _angara_ …” 

Scott didn’t react in any particular way off the bat, leaning slightly back from her while patiently waiting for Sara to just spit out what she was trying to say. Eventually, all he offered was a shrug, and an _“Oh”_ in response, completely unaffected by what she’d just revealed to him.

Until he paused, brow twitching as his lips curled in a smirk. “ _OH._ ” Sara exhaled, really quite unsure how to take Scott’s reaction other than what it was at face-value: seeming indifference and lack of concern outside of how much shit he could give her for it. “I’m not surprised. Never took you for the human type. I would give _anything_ to see how dad would react to you banging a member of your crew—”

“—What the _fuck_ Scott?” Sara spluttered. “If we were _banging_ , that’s none of your goddamn business—wait, how do you know… _who?_ ” That had to be who he was referring to, so he _knew_.

“It’s _so_ obvious, Sara, the way you two stare at each other in every photo I’ve seen come through the news.” Scott laughed, leaning just out of Sara’s reach as if he thought she was about to deck him. The thought crossed her mind, but her cheeks reddened at the thought that once again, they were clearly not being as discreet as they thought. _Was it really that obvious?_ “After you left yesterday I heard two of the nurses here whispering about him too, about _Jaal that angara envoy,_ ” Scott faked an obnoxiously pompous voice, biting his lip in an absurd proximation of flirtatious interest. “And I have heard some _shit_ about his anatomy that I would rather forget—”

“Well, now you’ve just made it creepy, thanks.” Sara groaned, the heat in her cheeks flaring down her neck. “Is it too late to stuff you back into that cryopod and jettison you back to the Milky Way?”

“Yeah, you’re stuck with me, sorry.” Scott settled then, his smile warming to something more calm and even-tempered. “Sis, if he makes you happy that’s all I care about.” Sara nodded her thanks, feeling a flutter of gratitude in her breast, for just being fortunate enough to have her brother back again so that she could share this with someone who really understood her. Jaal would finally meet her last family in the universe, and maybe, eventually, they could all be one big family together. 

“But you know, if he ever makes you _unhappy_ , I’m going to kill him, and no one will ever find the body.”

“In order to be able to do that, you’re going to have to lift a few more weights.” Sara really did punch Scott then, on the arm, and holding back _just enough_ to still get her point across. Above it all, she was just happy to finally be able to feel complete with both parts of her fragmented world finally coming together to become one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: before Scott and Jaal get introduced, Jaal has a bit of an existential crisis and needs to get some things off his chest...


	19. Contentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaal has a little bit of a crisis on the eve of meeting Sara's brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'd originally stated that this would be the chapter where Jaal and Scott would finally meet, but I lied. There were some things I wanted to cover along the way, and it was getting /so/ long that I decided to split it. So, we have this instead, Jaal finally needing to get some things off his chest. He's such a sappy wreck.
> 
> It's a long chapter. I'm terrible at keeping chapters short. Have a snack ready.

The day for Jaal began unassuming as Sara and him parted ways in the morning, leaving him to carry out business with the angara ambassador on the Nexus. That had taken longer than Jaal had prepared for—there were concerns about open Resistance recruiting on the station and the potential message of instability that could send to residents, Initiative _and_ angara. It seemed news of the posters emblazoned with his face on them had reached administrative levels, much to his embarrassment. Jaal promised the ambassador that he would discuss the matter with Evfra, who was obnoxiously amused to learn that some overzealous Resistance hopefuls were using his image as a means to entice angara to join. Hearing Evfra chuckle was a privilege not many angara got to witness. 

What Evfra _wasn’t_ amused by, was the message such endeavors sent; Jaal had accurately predicted that the Resistance commander wouldn’t be thrilled by the optics it created, suggesting that recruitment was waning. The angara had become naturally fatigued, the endless war putting a strain on them in all aspects of their daily lives, but younglings coming of age were eager to come to the defense of their people in as great of numbers as always. It was a sobering thought, to know that so many angaran children were growing up knowing only war, determined to fling themselves into the constant hail of gunfire to protect those that they cared for as soon as they could hold a rifle. Many of them would never come home. Jaal only hoped that his own children would not know such misery... 

Surprisingly, Evfra was equally concerned with the possibility of it destabilizing relations with the Initiative. Without outright admitting that the Initiative forces being lent to supplement the Resistance were helping, Evfra did not want to risk losing that support due to misunderstandings. Shrewd as he was, the Resistance commander understood the possible ramifications of appearing to undermine negotiations already put in place. 

It wasn’t Jaal’s predicament to solve, but despite his offers, Evfra was insistent that he would take care of it. He said he wanted his lieutenant focused on the mission.

Evfra didn’t specify _what_ mission, though by this point it was clear that trust had been long established, and they were beyond such necessary aggressions. It still sent a chill through Jaal, remembering Evfra’s instructions to him should Sara and her crew prove to be hiding ulterior motives...

By the time Jaal finished is vid-call with Evfra, Sara had returned from her own business and joined him on the vidcomm deck. Feeling his spirits lift again from seeing her, he reached out a needy hand to beckon her over to where he stood by the console. He needed to _feel_ her, to be reminded that such drastic action would never be needed. Sara did not seem to catch on to his disquieted thoughts, greeting him with a warm smile as she eagerly took his hand. She stretched her body to be able to reach his face, where she planted a quick peck to his cheek before settling back on her heels. Unsatisfied, Jaal caught her around the waist, pressing her to him in order to steal a deep, passionate kiss from her lips. The soft whimper of pleasure that escaped Sara when they parted moved him.

_This_ Sara must have sensed, because she gave him a wry smile. “Hey you,” she said privately. “I’m glad to see you too… Is something wrong?”

“Ah, no,” Jaal said, not wanting to derail them now. “I simply missed you.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, and it wasn’t like they hadn’t discussed the issue before.

“Well, good, because I need to call the crew up for a meeting. We can continue cuddling up later?”

Jaal nodded eagerly, though his soured thoughts then would only prove to be the beginning of his problems that day.

Moments later, the crew was gathered on the vidcom deck, with Liam characteristically late to join them by several minutes. He skidded to a stop at Jaal’s flank, slapping him across the back in his signature “bro meeting” way. Jaal had learned that returning such a friendly gesture usually meant that Liam would end up flat on his face on the ground, so he had abandoned such reciprocations early on. Instead, he offered the human a mocking _"Late as always…”_ to which Liam responded with a jokingly flirtatious wink.

“If you two are done I’ve got news to share,” Sara said with a sarcastic huff, though the glimmer of mirth in her eyes betrayed the amusement she was trying to hide behind a facade of professionalism.

“Yes boss,” Liam said, faking a salute as he straightened.

“Mmhmm, try not to forget it then.” 

Once the chaos of Liam’s graceless arrival settled, Sara announced her brother’s good health and that he would be joining them in an official capacity once they disembarked at the week’s end. A curious combination of excitement and anxiety gnawed at Jaal’s wobbling current, wondering exactly how her brother would react to _him_. What if Scott hated him? How would that change the routine he and Sara had perfectly orchestrated over many nights? Would it add a layer of tension and mistrust to the ship, creating additional complications they had not planned for? 

Jaal felt guilty even considering such a selfish fear, especially since he had not yet voiced such reservations to Sara. It wasn’t about him and his misplaced self-importance at all, but about her brother’s health and comfort. He could not help it though, the thoughts an unwelcome intrusion despite his more logical reasoning. Jaal watched in passive silence as Sara discussed logistics, running it through in his head how to appropriately express his worries without appearing hoggish, while his Tempest family took turns conveying their reactions. 

The rest of the crew expressed a spectrum of positive emotions from relief, to elation, and also concern whether he would be physically capable to meet the demands of their mission. Jaal detected the slight waver of defensive posturing in the way Sara responded, but the crew did not pick up on what he could, having spent far more time coming to know her more intimately as of late; he was more attuned to reading the physical cues on her face to see what could not be heard in her words. 

After Sara had concluded the discussion about Scott Ryder, she effectively transitioned the topic to their planned run at Meridian, and at this point Jaal largely zoned out. The perks of being so close to the Pathfinder meant that he would hear most of the details of _Ghost Storm_ from Sara privately—in _bed_ , wrapped around one another with nothing but thin cloth between their bodies— _skutt_ , he was becoming frustrated due to his own making. His resolve was starting to fail him, his clear physical desire for her beginning to cloud his judgment because stars, he _wanted_ her and she was giving him more patience than he probably deserved...

The absurdity of his self-imposed sexual frustration gnawing at his temperment, on the eve of meeting her brother had a certain dark humor to it that Jaal was not blind to. He was adult enough to compartmentalize individual stressors, even if they compounded together to create one single force of apprehension. Unfulfilled impulses were demanding on his stamina, but he was determined to not act on his baser needs, and more concerned with making sure the union was mutually unforgettable. He was not averse to spontaneity, but he was also not interested in startling her when the moment finally struck them. She had to be ready as well, not having any prior experience with an angara, though certain, unsubtle cues told him she had probably done a great deal of preparation already. Sara had even said as much before, signaling to him in her own way that she was ready, and such a thought made him flush with excitement. She was _thinking_ about him.

Jaal had certainly done a lot of thinking on his own, feeling moderately well-versed on the topic now, having done a bit more research in private alcoves of the cultural center since they had been on the Nexus. That was only one part of the puzzle: making sure he knew enough to ensure the experience was as pleasing for her as it would undoubtedly be for him, while also taking precaution on a more practical level that they would not… hurt each other unintentionally. When dealing with something that had no precedent, such as this, they were truly blazing a trail that had not yet been traveled. There was no literature or anecdotal education available to guide them. 

Location was also a thing to consider, and Jaal had already begun considering _where_ , and how to arrange for privacy and a romantic setting… but what was proving to be tricky was the timing. It was never certain what port of call they would end up in next, and making arrangements required precision. Jaal had a particular place in mind, one that was special to him, but predicting when they would be on Aya next was challenging. He did not want to make any unusual demands of Paran Shie without really knowing _when…_

It was not normal… to put so much thought into this as Jaal had, knowing that allowing the moment to happen organically would be just as special for them both. He was certain they would have already danced that tender rhythm with each other some time ago. Perhaps even on that first night in Havarl in the quiet intimacy of his bedroom, or the seclusion of a cavern in the Forge… It occurred to him that it was possible he was putting too much pressure on himself—too much pressure on _Sara_ —that it would not be what they both hoped. That thought perhaps scared him more than anything: that he would _disappoint_ her. The last time he had allowed himself to be so vulnerable to share his body with someone he loved, she had shattered him to pieces. 

Perhaps that was why, he simply was not ready…

An ever present, and growing physical distraction, exacerbated by the additional pressures of secrecy outside of the Tempest walls, did not provide Jaal with the right frame of mind to be poised when it came time to facing the reality of having to be on his best behavior when meeting Scott Ryder: the only true family that Sara had left in the universe. _Ancestors above_ , he had to make a good impression. Until now, he and Sara had been existing almost at the edge of a revelation, not truly able to view the state of the world as right with that thread of something missing dangling just out of reach. They could find solace in each other, nurturing their love and building an ever-strengthening bond, but there had always been something keeping Sara from truly laying her past to rest. With that holding her back, it held them _both_ back from an unspoken finality.

Scott Ryder, stuck in between two galaxies like a delayed birthing of a child into a new world, kept Sara from letting go. She too had gotten stuck, and Jaal had sensed it from the moment she first spoke of him so many nights ago: a melancholy, mourning one who was not truly dead, but not truly alive, lingering in a literal, and metaphorical stasis like a restless spirit. Now, the resolution that Sara—that _he_ had been waiting for, solidified the reality of their commitment in a way that was hard to describe. It was like Sara had finally snapped into sync with the rest of the universe, her brother finally catching up with the ever-moving stars to join her first stride in Andromeda that was only now coming to ground. It fully clarified the reality of _them_ , and Scott’s awakening was making everything a great deal more real, like emerging from a fog of frozen existence into perfect, real-time clarity. It meant _they_ were real, and it was time to acknowledge Sara’s personal world outside of the private fairytale that was their romance. Scott came with her, so Jaal wanted him to know that his only desire was to make his sister happy. 

By the time the crew had dispersed, Sara’s patience was already slightly worn, though it was with enthusiasm that she told Jaal that Scott had actually been rather receptive—and unsurprised—to the idea of their intimacy. Her subtle blush when she retold the encounter hinted at possible directions the conversation had gone, but she assured him that Scott was eager to meet him later in the week. Jaal trusted her judgment. She seemed far more calm about the upcoming encounter than he did, so he tried to derive strength from her confidence. It helped, but Jaal very much wanted this to go well…

Jaal understood why Sara had felt the need to wait, refraining from telling Scott during their initial reunion the day prior on the outset of his revival. There had been far too much weighing on Sara, and he would never entertain the thought of pressuring her into revealing something that he had come to understand humans were very private about. There had already been enough for her to resolve with her brother: lies told in the effort to protect him, when her people’s science had allowed them to share moments of confidence despite him being in a medically induced coma. Jaal did not need to add to it. Yet, there was a tiny, barely perceptible thread of disappointment at the thought that it was something Sara felt the need to initially hide. 

It was not shame or embarrassment that compelled Sara to keep such a thing more closely guarded, but Jaal could not escape the wish that Sara be more expressive with him outside of private moments. She was steadily growing more bold when they were not confined to the Tempest halls, and he cherished every attentive affection she bestowed upon him when out in public. He was not a fool. He understood Sara’s reluctance on a personal, cultural level, but also that she had to exude a certain level of professionalism given the delicacy of her position. Angara were not restrained by such restrictions of appearances, so while Jaal understood it, he did not like it. What did it matter what other people thought? Her own people should be overjoyed that their Pathfinder is so openly in love, just as his people would be! 

At least, he thought they would be. Despite all personal instinct and shrugging of inhibition, Jaal truly did not know if his own people would be warm to their union as his family had been. The angara had suffered a great deal at the hands of the aliens that had come before the Nexus, and yet more due to the actions of the few that had come from Sara’s own. It was likely that the fraction of angara inhabiting any physical space with the two of them outside of the Tempest had been able to ascertain from Jaal’s own physiological cues that they shared more than mere camaraderie. There were reflexive signals that Jaal simply could not turn off, part of his biology and largely outside of his control. Perhaps those individual angara, already able to live amongst the Milky Way aliens, simply did not care. Jaal was not certain that the same could be said for those who had so far been unwilling to take that very bold first step.

Perhaps all of those things weighed on Jaal far more than he thought leading up to the planned meeting between him and Scott Ryder, and what prompted him to act so poorly that night.

It did not take much diligence to pick up on the fact that Scott had not been surprised that they shared something more than friendship on the ship. Apparently it was… obvious visually to more than just the meat vendor in Hydroponics that they were intimate. Sara’s own brother had already been able to ascertain this just by watching them interact on the various HNS vid-reels that circulated through the network. That could have been excused as mere coincidence—because who knew Sara best than perhaps her own twin brother—except for the small complication that a complete stranger had come to the very same conclusion. Surely then, it was obvious to _everyone_ who watched them interact, so what use was there in hiding it? 

It was possible that was what had finally… _set him off_ , to borrow another apt phrase from the humans. 

Jaal was not angry at Sara. He did not blame her for her own upbringing, or her own cultural intricacies that sometimes still truly flummoxed him to the point of quiet frustration. In truth, he was not entirely sure where his anger was supposed to be directed, but in this moment, terrible judgment and lack of self-control had them hurled unnecessarily at his dearest love.

“Did you hear what I said, Jaal?” Sara’s voice had finally cut through the muddy cloud of aggravation, reminding Jaal that she had indeed been talking to him and he had completely lost track of what she’d said. He hesitated to respond, brow furrowed, wondering if he should mention to her what had been eating away it him, intensifying in the last few minutes with the knowledge that they were being secretive for _nothing_ —

“Is something wrong? You seem like you’re on another planet, Jaal…” Sara’s words were soft, concern filling her voice as her brow crinkled in that adorable way when she was trying to figure something out that was puzzling her. He knew he was giving a great deal away with just his silence, his expression alone probably signaling the quiet storm that was warring in his heart. The bottom of his gut dropped out from under him, the changing look on her face as the lack of words stretched between them making him want to cup her cheeks within his hands. The compulsion to speak was making the guilt chew away at his foundations, making him lose stable ground and falter in spirit.

Hindsight would have told him that in these circumstances, saying nothing would have been the more desirable option; for the _short term_. However, Jaal’s angara nature pressed through with the need to be frank about what was on his mind, because it was proving to be more taxing on his temperament than was productive.

“I am considering the best ways to avoid showing you affection in the presence of your brother.” _Immediately_ , Jaal knew he had _fucked up_ , for lack of a better phrase, but the words had already fallen out of his mouth by the time Sara’s expression changed. His current stuttered, shrinking against him like a narrowed stream of broken energy, covering the surface of his body like a thin film of anxious sweat and it was aggravating. He’d finally decided to speak, but had still chosen to do so in an indirect, and frankly quite hostile choice of phrase, possibly making things worse. There was no stopping this now, and it was time to speak his heart...

“What—” Her mouth became a thin line as she chewed at her bottom lip, her eyes turning round as her brow lifted in surprise. “That was surprisingly snotty of you…” It was all the confirmation he needed to know that instead of honest communication from the heart, he had chosen to poke the adhi. Her voice went unusually low and measured, the only other time he’d heard Sara use such a tone was when she had spoken disapprovingly to Sloane on Kadara. It was a tone that meant she was not happy with his attitude, and sensed an underlying motive that was being kept from her. 

Sara’s eyes narrowed then, the curve of her mouth turning downward as she frowned. Jaal knew he should have said something to assuage her concerns then, but his silence was largely outside of his own control. Now that it was time for him to speak, he had lost all the words that had been carefully practiced in his mind. “Do you… really think that’s what I want? Are you mad that I waited to tell Scott? I thought we—” She began talking quickly now, and Jaal could detect the confusion in her voice as she worked to try and figure out his meaning. The ebb and flow of her mood was the sign that this had the potential to spiral completely out of his control. 

Feeling uncomfortable now, Jaal felt his posture stiffen as he stood adjacent to Sara at the vidcom console. She looked unusually small against him, as if she had shrunken within herself to search internally for an answer that was not immediately forthcoming and he _hated it_. They were fighting. There was no way around this now…

“No,” Jaal quickly clarified, a prickling heat crawling up his spine as it bloomed through his cowl into a flush of shame. “That does not trouble me. You are hesitant to show affection unless we are alone, and as I am accustomed to certain… _freedom_ in your quarters I was merely attempting to be thoughtful of your discomfort.” The tightening in his chest was becoming unbearable, his current like a coil waiting to snap, but... It had been on his mind for a little while, so was it not necessary to be open and honest with your loved one?

“...Discomfort?”

The hurt on Sara’s face however was profound, and worse, Jaal did not clarify, unsure how as the shame and regret that had been lancing through every nerve finally settled deep within his breast. It simmered there, like a fractured energy that needed and outlet for release and it became hard to breath…

“Scott knows for fucks sake, I don’t know what would possess you to say something like that.”

“It seems that many may know, but you are still uneasy—” Jaal flinched at his own volume, realizing all at once that he had never spoken to Sara at such a level, and that it was very likely that others on the ship heard him. Sara visibly recoiled, a tremble of obvious anger and offense moving through her body like a shockwave as she straightened, tense and very clearly at a loss for what to say, aside from—

“It’s not that I’m _uneasy_ —” Sara snapped, almost parroting his tone exactly with her use of the very same word. “—there’s these expectations I don’t know what to _do_ with—”

“—Perhaps simply being open and honest would be more freeing and take some of that burden _off_ you. I could carry some of that weight off your shoulders by being publically at your side!” Jaal hadn’t realized his hand had balled into a fist until it was pressed against the surface of the vidcom terminal, the cold metal allowing clarity to force its way through the haze of hurt and frustration long enough to see Sara’s line of sight wavering. Holding eye-contact with him was growing difficult, and impulsively Jaal found himself trying to preserve it by following the direction of her broken gaze. “—Perhaps peeling away that unnecessary layer of secrecy would encourage more _trust_ in me within your people, seeing _me_ as less of a threat and a security risk—”

“—Are you… are you talking about being questioned at the checkpoints?!” Sara’s voice cracked then, her distress breaking through. Jaal knew why. He also knew it wasn’t fair to bring this up as a point of contention now. She had asked him earnestly if the additional scrutiny and suspicion at the security screeners in Arrivals bothered him. Sara had been blissfully ignorant of it before finally seeing first-hand the time wasted with frivolous questions and scans that seemed to only be reserved for him on the Tempest crew. It happened every time they returned. He did not blame her for being unaware. They had never disembarked onto the Nexus together, so all Sara could do was assume that he did not have extra hurdles to cross over. Hurdles because he was angara; because he was _different_.

It did bother him, but he had never felt compelled to foist such a conflict on Sara’s shoulders. It was not her fault. But now, it selfishly occurred to him that if they were more open and honest—more public—about their love, then perhaps it would afford him a little more leniency and trust from her people…

But this moment would not prove to be the most productive time to tackle such a social problem together, especially not when Jaal had just let slip that he was growing frustrated with their need to be discreet.

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now…” Her voice suddenly got even, and very controlled, and that was perhaps worse than the alternative: the rage or disgust that he very much deserved. An outburst of emotion Jaal knew how to deal with; it was _angaran_. The restrained way that Sara would carefully conceal the true level of hurt and anger was much harder for him to interpret. What he did know, was that it was disappointment in Sara’s words as she averted her gaze to look down at the floor, brushing quickly past him to descend the ramp to the main deck. Jaal was left with only his shame to keep him company on the vidcom level, wondering how he’d allowed such a thing to transpire, and admittedly afraid to descend himself and face whatever crew member had heard them. He had… behaved incredibly poorly, that was certain.

Unsure whether or not he should immediately go to Sara (the last time they had… _fought_ … following her had been decidedly the wrong tactic), Jaal nursed his sour mood in the Tech lab alone once he eventually gathered the nerve to leave. Only Vetra stood at the console on the main deck, sparing him a wary glance as her mandibles flared, but Jaal did not feel the need to respond in any way. He was too busy calculating, thinking it prudent to give Sara space while he figured out how to better explain what was eating away at him and make things right. Everything he came up with felt inadequate. He had acted like a stubborn child who was not getting his way… but were his concerns not valid? They were. He wanted to speak to Sara meaningfully, not to brute-force his opinion through her barriers, but to simply make these feelings known. He didn’t know how. 

Jaal managed to pass a few hours of time cleaning his rifle, silently running through the next possible courses of action and likely outcomes in his head as his hands moved over the pieces. Sara was not unreasonable, and he knew that she was sympathetic and would want to resolve the conflict, yet he did not know why so many of the possible ways to approach the topic in his head seemed inadequate. It crossed his mind to ask Liam what he should do, wanting another human to offer suggestions on how to navigate this cultural difference between them. He ended up deciding against it, choosing instead to solve this puzzle on his own, to grow his own confidence in himself to resolve this with Sara alone. Liam would not be easily accessible forever, and there would always be arguments in the future…

If he truly wanted that future with her, and he did, Jaal would need to adapt.

Eventually, his eyes became crossed with fatigue from staring at his rifle for too long, so Jaal set it aside to finish assembling later. Turning to look at his bed, grown cold and alone in his absence for the past several nights, it looked… small and depressing. It represented an old relic of himself, the Resistance lieutenant who slept alone and filled with grief, waiting for the next day of struggle to find purpose in. It was a place he didn’t want to go back to, because it felt like it had long lived passed its use.

Yet, in his melancholy, it called to him. His weary eyes longed to be closed, heavy from the technical demands of his rifle maintenance and the swirling storm in his heart. Perhaps a little sleep would provide some clarity on how to best speak to his darling one. 

Sliding his body from the chair, Jaal padded over to the single occupant Resistance issue cot and flopped heavily onto the surface with a downtrodden huff. The frame squealed in protest as his weight pressed into the meagerly supportive mattress, sinking into the curve created like a cast of mid-quality padding that had molded to his body from years of use. It was a fraction of the size of Sara’s bed, but it somehow managed to feel expansive and empty. The thought of returning to such solitude was painful, and though Jaal knew his mind was overreacting and coming to worst-case scenarios, the feeling was still profound as it clouded his thoughts. Pressing a hand into the empty space next to him, the fabric was cold against his bare palm, reminding him that there was not a body next to him to warm it. 

Sighing with a groan, Jaal curled into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible on the bed. He did not bother procuring the blanket, choosing instead to wrap his rofjinn around him, dragging the hood over and around his head to completely obscure the light from his closed eyes. It draped heavily over his face like a curtain, his breath pooling with warmth behind the azure fabric as it lulled him into a restless doze.

A sudden shifting of the mattress behind him, like a focused weight pressing against the surface of his back, roused him from the disagreeable sleep he had slipped into. It felt like no time had passed at all, but his body held the property of a leadened weight as if hours had elapsed since he first laid down his head. Blinking the groggy haze from his eyes behind the fabric of his rofjinn, he could see nothing of the light touch against his shoulder. Only the soft breath and the sweet scent of the perfume he had given her told him it was Sara who had come to _him_ , and his heart began to pound. _Stars_ , she was like an angel, a _valkaar_ that he was hoping for and a blossom of longing bloomed in his breast as she settled warmly over his shoulders.

“Jaal...?” She asked, and he could hear the hesitation in her voice as she gingerly slipped his hood away from his face, her fingers glancing his cheek making him shiver. He sat up, lifting his body in a swift, seamless motion to greet her face-to-face, the remaining fabric sliding down his cowl to rest at his back. Her worried expression shifted to something more calm, as he looked at her with an open fondness that could only be described as a request for forgiveness. He was just… _elated_ that she had come, so unsatisfied with the loneliness of the tech lab now that he had been spending so many nights in her company.

Sara sat back on her knees, and it was a testament to how small she was that she could even find that small shred of space to center her weight and stay seated on the mattress. Even so, the compulsion to scoot sideways to allow her some room made Jaal shift as he opened his mouth to speak, but Sara beat him to it.

“I’m sorry, Jaal. I shouldn’t have got so defensive…” She said, looking down at where her hands were rubbing at her knees in discomfort. She inhaled a heavy, shaking breath, meeting his eyes once more with a measure of assuredness. “You were trying to say something important to me, and I let my stress get in the way…”

“Darling one…” Jaal murmured, shifting again to better face her, and to take her hands in his own. “...I should not have approached the subject with you in such a manner.” His own eyes drifted then, feeling an embarrassed flush begin to creep its way up his chest. “There are things that weigh on me, but I should have afforded you more respect with the words I chose, and not relied on snide remarks to get your attention. That was very… _not angara_ of me…” Sara had watched him speak with eyes that were focused and intent, the corner of her lip curling in humor at his unusual turn of phrase. Compulsion guided him there, unable to resist the urge to kiss the upturned edge of her mouth, a ghost of his current lingering in the fragment of space where they didn’t touch. A small breath puffed from between her lips when she returned the gesture, rewarding him with a small peck that was soft and filled with relief.

“Well… _that_ was _very angara_ of you…” Sara teased, her words a caress against his lips as she grinned. “To address something you said… I… talked to Kandros,” she continued with a greater degree of seriousness, leaning away slightly while frowning as if apologetic. Jaal swallowed heavily, sensing he knew what part of their earlier quarrel she was referring to. “I would have come sooner, but what you said bothered me so much—it _had_ been bothering me, that I saw no reason to wait. I told him the truth. And I told him that the security checks on you _had_ to stop.” She paused, though Jaal was admittedly too shocked with warmth for her to realize that she had stopped talking for a second. “You were right. If they trust me, then they need to trust you too. You should be able to travel back and forth freely now without them harassing you.” The finality in her tone was marked with a secure sense of authority, that her confidence in her decision was sound, and Jaal wondered what manner of verbal flogging she had given the turian who from what he had seen was very by-the-book.

Sara had been apologetic initially because she had not come to him sooner, even though it was for good reason. Moved by his grievances, she had seen fit to go directly to the source, the Apex commanding officer, to insist that they relent in their suspicions of him. Such assertive demand in his defense made Jaal’s entire current stutter with an intense longing and gratitude. Cupping her face in his hands, he found himself nuzzled against her cheek to _show_ her, breathing in her perfumed scent as she rested against him with a sigh of content.

“Thank you, Sara,” Jaal offered, and Sara slid her face around so that their lips were just out of reach again, the smile on her face light. “I realize that you did so at great risk for just my benefit. I understand their caution with the likes of the Roekaar about, but to do that for me means a great deal.” He could not help but kiss her, filled with re-awakened desire at such a gesture, which she responded to eagerly.

“Of course I would do that for you…” she said, a little breathless in between fervent kisses. “I’m ashamed I didn’t do it sooner…”

Jaal shook his head wordlessly in dissent, now too lost in the welcome of her opened mouth to voice how much such a statement offended him. He instead hoped action would get the point across, a stray hand traveling down the length of her body to grip her backside. The soft, startled squeak of laughter from Sara as he hauled her swiftly against, and over his body to settle against the far end of the mattress, was met with a quiet groan of need as he came to rest against her. Partially covering her in such closeness made warmth begin to pool low, but he eased away by propping himself on an elbow to avoid crowding her. In the tight confines of his Resistance cot, with Sara tucked between him and the wall, it suddenly felt much more intimate and loving than it did hours before.

Sara looked relaxed, and actually comfortable despite such little freedom of movement, with their fronts nearly flush with one another. She was blushing, the high points of her cheeks splashed with color, but her smile diminished with the realities of their unfinished discussion still laying unresolved in the air around them.

“That other thing…” Sara started quietly, looking down at his chest where she drew a finger against the bunched fabric of his rofjinn. “I don’t generally care about what Tann thinks… but with _this_ , it’s personal, it’s my _private life_ … and I get enough judgment from Tann on how I operate in my professional life, I don’t also need him politicizing what _we_ do behind closed doors. Does that make sense?” Her eyes darted upward with hesitation, almost fearful of his answer, but he smiled intently at her. 

“I understand that, my love. That is not what pains me.” With the hand not holding his head up, he traced the line of her waist, slipping low around her shoulders to flatten his palm against the middle of her back. “I detest that you are put in that position to begin with, that your private life, with me, would be made into a problem for you and threaten your position. It is so foreign to me, that it is frustrating… but I know it is not your doing.” Sara’s fingers had disappeared within the folds of blue fabric around his neck, a gesture of discomfort meant to distract herself.

“I’m not trying to hide you…” Sara finally said with a sigh. “But I get that it’s time to not worry about that anymore. I told Kandros anyway, though he’s not really the gossiping type.”

“I know you are not.” Jaal let his hand rest against the back of her neck, the affectionate warmth of his current tugging a smile from her. A pulse of heat travelled through his body, the persistent throb in his core demanding attention that he wasn’t willing to give, not yet, not at such an inappropriate time, but Sara’s closeness always had such an effect on him. “Though...our secret may be known regardless. Unless we are to avoid ever being caught together off the ship, it is likely we are giving a great deal away without trying.” Jaal could not help but beam at this, knowing that the strength of their love was spoken in such wordless gestures that they were not even aware of was a reward in of itself. If the meat vendor on Hydroponics had picked up on it, then certainly other angara had—that meant _most_ angara probably had, and in such a tightly-knit society such news as Evfra’s first lieutenant and angara liaison to the human Pathfinder being _intimate_ with said Pathfinder would travel fast. From what Jaal knew of Sara’s people, despite their more private nature in many cases, they too loved to gossip. 

There were no grumblings of discontent, or disapproval that he had heard. Jaal dimly remembered his mother mentioning that Resistance members were expressing romantic interest in Sara, though he would rather forget that detail. Despite any instinctively possessive jealousy he may harbor, that in of itself was not an indicator of offense or disgust, but rather, curiosity. Aside from that, there was nothing but silence coming from both sides, and Jaal knew that Evfra would have made it plainly clear if he was causing any problems for the Resistance. Jaal was confident that all Evfra would say, would be a gruff _“What you do in your bedroom is none of my business, so long as you don’t tell me, and it doesn’t hinder your ability to shoot a rifle.”_

That meant, the silence perhaps spoke more than any unfounded fears of outrage. It meant that people did not care as much as this Tann may have felt they would.

“Kandros didn’t really seem surprised, so maybe he’d figured it out too, and well, Scott knows… that means half the Nexus will know by the morning.” Sara laughed, the gesture small and precious as she buried her face into the mattress in feigned embarrassment. This was not discomfort at the prospect of people knowing about them, but the frustration of a sibling gone rogue meant in jest. That was obvious enough to Jaal as he laughed with her, slipping his fingers through her hair, nestling his face against the arch of her neck.

“And would that be so bad, my darling?” He murmured against her skin, the heady scent of the perfume he had given her making his body tingle. Jaal wondered, if she had put it on just for him...

“No...” Sara’s voice was muffled and unclear as she spoke against the mattress, but he detected hopefulness in her playful gesture. 

“Perhaps in the likelihood that many already know about us, or suspect our intimacy, Tann would have already raised objections with you if it was causing a stir amongst your people. Since he has not—”

“—He doesn’t care as much as I thought he would.” Sara completed for him, this time more clearly as she shifted her head again, wriggling against the persistence of Jaal’s attentions at her neck with a pleased huff of air. The softness of her skin was sending electrical sparks across his current, coalescing in a growing swirl of throbbing heat that was gathering low in the tightness of his belly. Each pulse in his groin sent shockwaves of pleasure through him, just slight, but an encouragement to further seek out the incrementally magnified bliss that certain actions he desired would promise. Somehow in these more crowded confines of his own paltry bed, his desire for her had suddenly magnified, their necessitated closeness forcing such intimate contact that he felt surrounded by her. 

Despite these surging impulses, Jaal managed to peel himself away from the silken column of Sara’s throat, gathering his wits in and attempt to regain control of his higher functions. _This_ is what previously led him to such frustration that had caused him to speak so poorly earlier, among other things, but Jaal still felt compelled to tell Sara what ailed him in this manner.

“I don’t want to hide… _us_ anymore…” she said, perhaps sensing his sudden break as a need to speak further on the matter, but that was not what he had in mind. Even so, her declaration warmed him, perhaps too much, as a reflexive growl of something...satisfied and _territorial_ rose from his chest. He was in a _state_.

This did not escape Sara’s notice as her eyebrows rose, an amused response to his uncouth demonstration that was unrefined and more feral than he’d intended. The opposite of disapproval happened, as she did not seem to care how uncivilized he chose to express his pleasure in the privacy of their seclusion. Instead she appeared to be encouraging him, stretching her body out suggestively against him with only the intent to drive Jaal mad. “That really does it for you, huh?”

Jaal gave her a piercing look, not one of scolding but fond exasperation at her marvelous skill to test his patience. He brushed the hair from her face with gentle fingers, holding himself up again on an elbow that was now feeling slightly less stable than it had moments earlier. His current was becoming a distraction, swirling like a maelstrom of sexually charged need so intense it was burrowing deep into his skin and making his jaw begin to ache from clenching. The distance helped, but the juxtaposition of how much he wanted her right then with what he needed to speak was cruel, if not laughably absurd. A few measured breaths allowed Jaal the clarity of refocused thought, tamping down the storm of his energy field like smothering a fire within a blanket. It still buzzed beneath his bones, but was no longer the singular nuisance it was proving to be when they needed to talk of important truths.

“May I speak frankly with you about something?” Sara’s smile vanished, correctly identifying Jaal’s change in tone as the signifier that it was, that what he had to say was important for him to express. What he did not like was the hesitance in her eyes, so he did his best to ease the uncertain look on her face with a soft stroke at her temple. “I know my behavior may be… puzzling to you, and I want to explain why. There is an additional reason as to why I… acted poorly towards you earlier.”

Sitting forward slightly, Sara raised her body to be closer to his level, the frown on her lips slight. “I don’t think you acted poorly Jaal. You’re frustration was justified.” Her eyes were darkened pools of umber in the light of the tech lab, and Jaal had to restrain himself from becoming lost in their seemingly endless warmth. But he drew strength from them, and from what he saw below the surface of her focused clarity, and that was love and acceptance.

“Perhaps, but there is more to it than what we have already discussed.”

“Okay, shoot.” Sara said, positioning her body to something more alert and attentive, her face a calm mask as her eyes scanned his face. Her cheeks were still flushed, likely from their previously amorous interaction, contrasting quite harshly from the sincere concern in her eyes.

He was still not quite used to such an odd phrase, unsure what the act of _shooting_ had to do with the acceptance of being a participant in a discussion, but that was a question for another day.

“Even now I feel a… desire for you that is both ferocious and… consuming. I… want to _be_ with you, but I have told you that I wish for the perfect alignment of timing and circumstance. I am not trying to be fussy—I just, want those first moments to be more than something shared in the heat of desperation.” He could tell by the way Sara’s face had stilled that she wanted to say something, her brow troubled as she frowned, but she let him continue. “Surely you know by now that I am… eager… I am just… not ready.”

Sara’s lower lip trembled, a subtle tint of anguish as she looked him squarely in the eye, her gaze sincere, but concerned for him. “Jaal… I’m not trying to pressure you if you aren’t ready, and I respect whatever it is you want. I told you I’m more than happy to wait for you as long as you need…” She looked down again between them, chewing at her lip in discomfort. “Is my teasing too much? I’ll stop—” 

“No!” Jaal interrupted hastily, hoping his eased laugh would disarm her enough to forget such uncertainties. “...No, I rather enjoy your teasing, and soon enough I will share my body with yours.” The cooling contact of Sara’s forehead to his was like an anchor, and she allowed him this closeness with practiced ease that it now seemed second-nature for both of them. That such an angaran gesture was initiated so routinely between them now made Jaal nearly lose his thread of thought just to fathom it. “I appreciate your patience with me… there is… a little more to it that I have not yet shared with you.” 

Sara nodded, not wanting to overcomplicate the moment with more words, so Jaal continued. He drew away just slightly, letting a hand rest on Sara’s hip as he searched for the right words. 

“Part of the reason our secrecy has been difficult for me, is because in our limited moments together the strength of our passions are… intense. To be consistently indulged until the brink, only to be denied release and no other time outside those tender moments to… _discharge_ some of that energy… it has stressed me more than it should, and tonight I believe I used you as an outlet to ease those frustrations. For that, I am so sorry.” The expression on Sara’s face was troubled when Jaal paused to allow her time to absorb what he said, but he feared she misunderstood him. “I do not want anything to change. I _cherish_ every moment we spend together and wouldn’t wish we spend our time any other way. Think of it as, _mmm_ , my _current_ , a harmonious weave of my passions and temperament, and if a charge builds beyond the point of containment it requires an easement of the pressure… and being unable to… _ease_ some of that pressure outside the Tempest with even small gestures it remains tight and discontent.” 

“I get it. You’re frustrated, sexually… and having to keep it even more bottled up when we’re not in here makes it worse.” Sara nodded, her mouth a thin line as she looked thoughtful. “I assume it’s not actually part of your current, but you were speaking more metaphorically. It’s more of a mood thing?” 

“Yes, but I should not have taken it out on you.” Jaal said, mentally biting down at his poor choices from earlier. He would not make that mistake again. 

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Sara’s question was innocent enough, and Jaal could not lie—a sudden shock of arousal flashed through him like a lightning strike at what such a question implied… but no, he would not dream of using her in such a way... 

“You are already doing more than I could ask of you… and the irony of choosing abstinence for the moment amidst such complications is not lost on me…” 

“But everything going on outside doesn’t help, and just overcomplicates things.” Sara laid a palm on his chest, flattened against the broad plane of his breastbone just above the knob of muscle above his heart. “Just, tell me when you’re ready, and maybe now if we just say _fuck it_ and not hide… that will help a little bit?” 

“I think so,” Jaal said, a hopeful rumble in his chest as he shifted closer to her, flushing darkly. “And you will know when I am ready…” He hesitated, looking sideways to avoid Sara’s eyes as a stab of resentment settled in his gut. 

“I have no doubt about that.” 

“It would not be so… difficult for me, to be perfectly satisfied to consummate our love in whatever manner was natural… but I’m afraid past experience has prevented me from feeling comfortable with such spontaneity.” 

“Jaal… you don’t have to… _impress_ me. I have no expectations whatsoever, only that whatever _does_ happen will be—er—amazing.” Sara fumbled, her lip twitching with an uncomfortable humor at the ungraceful manner in which she described their future love making, but it helped Jaal’s confidence as he laughed softly. 

“I know, I know.” He shook his head, regaining eye contact with her as the hand that had been at her hip transitioned to her cheek. Stroking the space beneath her eye with his thumb, he continued. “It is an internalized fear. The last time I was comfortable enough to be so vulnerable with another, to give myself to them, they broke my heart and betrayed me. I know that this will not be the same… but I am compelled to make sure that the moment is perfect, that it will be a perfect memory we share until the end of time.” 

Sara didn’t say anything then. She knew well who he spoke of, and while he had not told her a great deal of how his time with Allia had culminated, and ultimately ended, she knew _enough_ to ascertain that it was she he was referring to now—that it was she who had manipulated and controlled him to get at something else, ultimately turning him into the man he was determined to no longer be. 

Eventually, when all grievances were laid to rest, they managed to peel themselves away from each other, spending time together assembling his rifle at the table. Jaal enjoyed such mundane activities being spent with Sara, her earnest interest in being shown exactly how he had modified the kett weapon infectious on his own mood. He felt clear, having successfully navigated some fairly heavy concerns with her, and he thought that they were stronger for it. His hand only slipped a _few_ times, but trying to put back together a rather large, complicated firearm with a small, lovely smelling human beneath an arm made things a little bit more difficult. 

Hours went by before they emerged from the tech lab together, leaning heavily on one another in exhausted laughter, hunger clawing at both of their stomachs as they stumbled in amorous bliss towards the mess hall. Vetra was still at the console (he wondered if the turian had ever left, or had been standing guard there intentionally with the intent to intervene if necessary), but now Cora stood with her. Presumably they were talking about requisition preparations for their departure to Meridian, but Jaal was in such a good mood and in the midst of a romantic high that he found he didn’t care much. He didn’t even care when they paused to look at them, passing through as a tangle of wrapped limbs, even though all they offered was pleased acknowledgment. 

Sara only paused long enough to tell Vetra to, under no circumstances, procur _grape yogurt_ again, and Jaal could not help the bark of laughter that escaped him as the mess hall door slipped closed behind their backs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They will finally meet! It's official!
> 
> I don't know... I'm just not feeling Anthem... but, I fully admit I'm obnoxiously salty when it comes to Bioware right now. It just doesn't look like anything I haven't seen before. Maybe I'll be surprised, but so far I'm just not excited for it. 
> 
> I'm missing Mass Effect hard core, just the universe and the lore they put in place. I just can't bring myself to play the games again, which would be an obvious solution. I want something /new/. Alright, enough griping from me....


End file.
